THIS is rich

So it's late afternoon, and I'm out for a constitutional, during which I usually wander the riverbank and skip stones. I'm no Amelie, but I aint bad.

So I'm looking for stones, skipping them, watching them, listening to the river... basically meditating in a fidgety way, as I do.

So I rear back to sidearm a nice one, and somehow my non-throwing arm swings across my body and... I hit myself.

Yep.

Years ago a girlfriend missed the lake and hit me straight in the knee while trying to skip a stone, but I've never hit myself with a thrown rock.

Thank goodness it was small, and it hit the fleshy part of my index finger. I knelt down, dipped my finger in the cold river, and pondered this little hiccup in my athletic career. Then I noticed some very small snail shells and a translucent egg sac on the end of a submerged stick.

Life is good in spite of myself, and there's no bruise yet.

Here's a photo of Jeff from the other night, ambling past some of the taken-down-but-not-yet-stored drip irrigation hose; this weekend I'm going to try to convince him and Mutt to eat the tansy and knapweed. Nutty kids....