Faceplant: the story of 2016

I think 2016 has been that kind of year.

You know, rough politics, money troubles, strange illnesses, the non-stop slew of celebrity deaths. Not to say it didn't have its ups, but it was definitely a year that tried to beat back.

I guess that makes what happened to me this morning feel like one of the most appropriate conclusions to this year that I could have pictured.

After spending a really wonderful holiday at my sister's in-laws with my family, the time had finally come to depart from their amazing home near Newcastle. There are two entrances to Matt's house--one with a bunch of stairs, and one that is slightly flatter. Matt had been warning us about the slippery stairs since we arrived, but we had taken them every single time we came or went.

This morning we left at 5:30. Worried about the slick stairs in the dark, we decided to pull the car to the flatter entrance. I had on my customary turtle shell backpack, and some new boots who's grips had yet to be tested.

Half asleep, I got one foot out the door, when I suddenly felt my feet slip from under me, and I face planted into the cobblestone.

I'd been feeling too coordinated lately, so I suppose it's about time. 

Anyway, the point is that after sitting in a kneeling position for a minute or two, apologizing to the cobblestone, blood gushing from my nose for only the second time in my life, I sat up, held my nose  in some bloody tissues, and then got up.

I've spent 25 years falling flat on my face, but I've never failed to pull myself back up.

2017, lets see what you've got.