So it's now a week since I fell down the stairs. And, at the bottom clanked my head on the marble tiles in the foyer. Then picked myself up and continued with our little puppies toward the back of the house and the sliding glass doors to let them (and me) out to the backyard. It was last Saturday morning, at the cusp of the day.

Since then -- because I had, without recalling any bit of the tumble and where Jackie had been on the stairs behind or beside me (not before me), somehow involved him in my mad tumble -- he has recovered, we believe, from the hurt he sustained. Perhaps it was when I was flailing out, sliding on the stair treads, trying to stop myself from heading down the full length of the stairs that I made contact with his little body.

Although he continued along with Jillie through the house and down the steps of the deck with me after the fall, it soon became apparent to him and to me that he had been traumatized by what happened. I'd initially thought the trauma was only psychological; reaction to an adverse, puzzling event, then realized he was favouring his left leg and became increasingly unwilling to move at all.

That no more impeded his appetite than the fall did mine, and we both resumed our normal behaviour, though he was clearly in some discomfort and wasn't inclined to do anything much physical. As for me, after I'd frozen my forehead where it had come in sharp and brutal contact with the marble for an hour or so, tending to the huge lump that had swiftly formed, I went about my normal business as well.

Gruesome me!

In the days that followed, the swelling and the bruising became more pronounced, then began to subside. My eyesight wasn't impacted other than for the irritation of having my left eyelid droop partially over my eye because of the interior blood accumulation as a result of the hard impact. The bruising slowly moved down the left side my face, until almost a week later, it reached my chin.

As for the rest of me, my back hurt a bit, as did my right side and hip, my ankles/shins were slightly skinned and hurt and the middle fingers of both hands felt well exercised with a perpetual ache. Nothing that I couldn't tolerate, so there was no need for painkillers or anything like that. It was exceedingly annoying to see people's eyes linger on my face, after popping with astonishment, and my having to explain what had occurred.

Some people whom we appreciate as ravine acquaintances couldn't resist jocular remarks about abused women, though it's nothing, as a social phenomenon to joke about. I've reached the point that when we're out, I forget about how my face appears to an onlooker, and am brought back to reality when people ask what happened to me, or as one man asked: 'Are you all right?' I am tired of assuring people I'm fine, I just had a fall and was fortunate I hadn't broken a limb, at my age.

But I decided I wouldn't do the shopping as I ordinarily do for our weekly groceries, today. My husband was more than willing to go ahead, and made up a list to take with him. He enjoys food shopping, so he doesn't mind, although it's not in his nature to 'mind', or to resent or resist doing anything that I ask of him. I've gone about my usual routine other than that.

Decided to bake a plum pie this morning, for this evening's dessert. I'd bought a basket of plums last week and thought they weren't as delicious as the ones we used to grow ourselves in the backyard before our plum tree gave up its will to live; a storm had shattered it years ago.