View From My Porch

It was sprinkling out but even so, I stepped off the porch onto the wet grass to shake out my dust rag.  Charlie Talbott had come over to help me with a picture-hanging project which entailed a step ladder and some high (long undusted) surfaces and the dust rag was full.  (If, indeed, “full” is the right word.)  I was quick to avoid the rain — too quick as it turned out — and I mis-stepped on my way back onto the porch.  BLAM!  Down I went. landing in a semi-fetal position on my left side.  I hurt, though not too badly.  But, I couldn’t get up.

And sometimes THIS is the view from my porch!

So… yep.  There I was yelling — first:  “OW! OW! OW!”  Then:  “Charlie! Help!”  No response, though the door was part-way open and he was only a few rooms away.  So then, feeling rather ridiculous but even more desperate:  “Help me!  I’ve fallen!  I can’t get up!”  Even as the words came out of my mouth I thought how preposterous it all was, but then came a woman’s voice from the other side of the street, over by the church:  “Do you need help?”  At my “Yes! Please!” response, the woman said, “Where are you?”

Our Gate

“On my porch!” was my less than helpful answer.  “Where is your porch?” came the voice again.”  “Look for the gate in the picket fence!” I called.  And shortly. here she came: a tall-ish, slim, middle-aged woman who bent over me and said, “How can I help?”  “Just pull me up if you can,” I said.  And in two shakes she had her hands under my armpits and I was on my feet.  “Thank you so much!  Were you over visiting the church?” I asked.  “Yes,” she said and just like that she was gone. I think somewhere in our short exchange she had asked if I was all right and I said that I was.  Then I went looking for Charlie who had been using a dust-buster and was blissfully unaware of my calls for help.

Oysterville Church – Sketch by Noel Thomas

He and I finished our “project” and then I took him out to lunch — but not before I called “Nurse Carol” and she came over armed with a frozen package of corn niblets and a brand new ace bandage for my knee and made me promise to ice for 20 minutes a couple of times an hour — which I have fairly faithfully done.  My knee is no longer swollen, though it and my left side are pretty sore.  Mostly, I’m still chuckling over the words that came tumbling forth almost unbidden from my mouth:  “Help me!  I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”  Thank goodness I live across from a tourist destination!  And one that folks visit even on rainy days!