Sunday, 4 November 2012

Poor balance is a prick(le)

I was just ducking out to bin the bagged-up recycling that's been sitting in the hall for two days.  Because I was going at most twenty paces I didn't bother putting shoes on, and because I didn't need to see where I was going in any great detail I didn't bother with glasses either.

Apparently a horde of invisible ninja prickles have sprung up in my lawn since I last walked barefoot on it, and they leapt out and attacked my helpless, barefoot, barely-able-to-see self.

So I do that awkward 'walk on the bit of your foot that doesn't have a prickle in it' thing out of the invisible ninja prickle patch and then stand on one foot, so I can pull the prickles out of the other one.

Except because my balance is poor to nonexistent, and I'm in the middle of the lawn where there's nothing to lean on, every five seconds I have to put my other foot back down to stop myself falling over.

And that's when I discover I'm not out of the invisible ninja prickle patch after all.

I have to put my foot back down so frequently that I'm actually getting more prickles in it than I can pull out when I raise it.  So it's back to the 'trying to walk on one square inch of foot' thing as I hobble to safety and then pull half of an old growth forest out of the soles of my feet.

And then I realised I'd dropped the bags in the prickle patch.

Somewhere in this picture is an invisible foot-attacking ninja.  I can't see it either.