Scarlet Stone

I’ve been considering the feast day of Saint Valentine; the celebration of love and affection is moments away. And I gotta say, “the universe has not been showing my aging body much love.”
I’ve experienced a string of unfortunate events. One afternoon just before Christmas, I was driving home from a friend’s holiday tea party on Lake Vermilion. It was an icy-cold, windy afternoon with the snow blowing off the lake polishing the ice under my tires, when all of a sudden I lost control of my Jeep. I was seemingly floating on black ice, then went slamming through the snowbank on the right side of the road, barely missing a rock cliff. I continued bouncing through startled cattails and about thirty yards of rough ditch before I came to an abrupt stop with the Jeep tipped at an angle. I was belted and had no airbags or apparent pain to deal with. I regained composure and quickly phoned our reliable nearby towing service. The business owner promptly arrived, waded through nearly a foot of snow down to my vehicle, hooked on a cable and winched me out. Surprisingly, I drove away with neither me nor the Jeep affected. Well, so I thought.Over the next couple days, I developed a sore lower back that lasted a few weeks. Some applications of ice and a chiropractic adjustment got me back in good order. (I am grateful, but Russell Stover chocolates would still be appreciated.)
Right after Christmas, I was leaving the Vermilion Park Inn in Soudan, headed to Ely to do some family pet-sitting, and I accidentally locked my keys in the car. Nobody was around so I called my trusty friend, The Horse Whisperer, “H.W.” out of Kugler Township 12 miles away. He performed wonders with a coat hanger and pry bar while I cheered him on to success. There we were, standing in the icy wind and him with a fresh hair cut I had recently administered when his own attempts with scissors left me no choice but to cut it quite short so it was even in length. He commented, “Been awhile since I sported white walls.”  I’d been considering trimming it for over two years, but you can’t rush these backwoods types. When I saw the hack-job it was an open invitation, so I leaped at the opportunity....quickly pulling my scissors, barber cape, and the yellow Remington from a nearby kitchen drawer. I quickly shoved him down onto a wood chair to get on with it before he changed his mind. After the sheering, he gingerly peered at himself in the bathroom mirror while adjusting pieces of his hair. “It looks nice,” I said, leaning against the door. He replied, “It’s different, and now my bald spot shows.” He chuckled and I confirmed, “It looks much better, and it’ll grow.” (He was kind, then I was kind....and no doubt deserve the chocolates.)
The following day another dreadful event occurred. Later in the day, I headed back to Ely to take care of pets again and decided to stay overnight at my kid’s apartment, parking behind the building. As I was hastily leaving the next morning, I lifted the back hatch to toss in a bag of trash. My right hand was holding the frame of the Jeep and I was leaning down to grab the bag with my other hand when the hatchback came down....slamming my right hand and leaving me helpless. With increasing pain and panic sweeping over me, I started feeling like I might pass out, and then my brain went into survival mode. I was able to twist my body to reach the latch with my other hand and free myself. Pain rushed in and I felt like I was going to faint. I sat inside and took calming breaths. My hand was bruised with a diagonal purple crease across the knuckles and there was a small open wound, but nothing was dangling, broken or severely bleeding so I decided to drive home to Soudan. I held my rapidly swelling hand on the cold steering wheel until I got home to apply an ice pack. This injury took a month to heal but now all is well, and I am able to use my hand with no lasting effects. I was strongly reminded that hydraulics fail in real cold temperatures. (With two good hands I can easily open a Russell Stover box and sample those lovely chocolates.)
Another mishap in my string of unfortunate events happened at the end of January. I was rushing across a carpet with a bounce to my step and suddenly felt a twang in my right knee. I had twisted my right knee and injured the ligament. This knee has seen plenty of trauma, but I cursed it, rested it, and iced it for about a week. Once again, my efficient chiropractor friend adjusted it, and I am doing well. I have decided I need to be more methodical in my movements, stay focused and above all, don’t rush. Those are some good lessons to take away from a month or so of mishaps. After all of that....I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I deserve a big heart shaped box of Russell Stover chocolates.
Happy Valentine’s Day to you all!