We all fall down

I'm fond of scars. I have several that I am excessively proud of. My favorite is the one I got from kicking my foot against a swimming pool and cut my foot. It's a very neat white line on my left foot. I'm also keen on the one next to my left eye that I got when I fell between the springs of a trampoline. I have many others. I'm an incredibly clumsy person.

Last night we went to a barbecue activity that also included some volleyball. Pepper and I were on a team that included up to ten other people at any given time. That many people on a court, we were bound to have mishaps.

First, while chasing after a ball, I ran into one kid and he stepped on my foot. My three middle toes on my left foot are in pain. Second, I was hit with the volleyball by a failed serve by one of the kids. Third, the pole fell and just happened to land on my right shoulder. Add to that the tiny bruises from hitting a flat ball on my right forearm and just the general soreness from playing a sport I haven't played for a while, and I'm a bit off today.

But because of my love of scars and bruises and all that, I'm alright. I like to be sore. I like to have "battle wounds". It gives me something to talk about, and in my opinion, toughens me up. And as we all know, I think toughness very important.