Break a leg

Or more accurately, crash your bike in a way so not to get killed by a jerk in a truck blowing through the stop sign. For the last week I have been healing from deciding how badly I wanted to get mauled in a confrontation on my bicycle against a Ford truck. Needless to say, in the second I had to decide I opted for the less painful of the two options.

In other words, I decided to wuss out.

Not that it did me any good. I trashed my rear tire on the bike-I braked so hard and in such a tight circle that I popped it-and now sporting a wonderful air cast on my left ankle for the next month due to ligament damage. Or in layman's terms: owwie!!!!

Other than that I'm doing alright considering my fastest speed is 1/10th mph. And for those who know me in person, this is unacceptable and slowly driving me insane. Granted, I do have a fantastic cane at this point which doubles as a handy bludgeon for any snot-nosed kids who get in my way. For some reason they forget I have an extra three foot of smacking range now. . .

I would never beat a child who didn't deserve it. Good thing my limits on "deserve it" are set to the minimum level.

And to the parents who think its cute to let your little monster loose in the store, don't blame the guy on the crutches/cane who can't stop on a dime when your hellion runs around the corner and I fall on them. I don't care if they are 'adventuresome seven-year old kids,' I'm going to go down when only supported by one foot and little pieces of metal; and don't whine about if they are alright because I was kind and didn't fall on them. I should have, but didn't.

The absolute worst this week, sans the kitty deciding it is a hilarious game to wake his daddy every hour by crashing into his foot-including a great deal of language I won't repeat in the blog-is the fact that standing for long periods of time to cook was totally out of the question. As in I was lucky for the first three days I fed myself anywhere but over the sink. Or sandwiches.

So this week has resulted in nadda in the world of international cuisine from your's truly, and I apologize. But I am writing out some recipes to experiment with for when I can hopefully stand more next week. Until then, watch out for jerks who don't stop at stop signs.

Bien Camino!