Yesterday while at the Gardens I fell (upstairs in a closet) and got a bloody lip (on a cement block, no less-----don't even ask). (It's not nearly as believable a story as years ago when I was there working up on a step ladder, ran to get the phone, came back, moved the ladder and got hit in the lip with a falling hammer I'd left on top of the ladder.)
So we go to church this morning-----me with my swollen bloodied lip. We're walking out after the service and there's a wonderful breeze so I suggest to John that we take a stroll up to Cathedral Square; my feet are hurting by the time we get to the end of the Square, so John offers to go back, get the car and pick me up. I sit down on a ledge near some wonderful giant pots of flowers to wait when it starts sprinkling. So I cross over Division Ave. to wait under the canopy of a vacant store-front (where on weekdays prostitutes ply their trade). Wouldn't you know, before John can return, members from church (one an elder) in two different vehicles drive by and ask me, with my swollen lip, if I need help. Hey, that's how rumors get started.
So we go to church this morning-----me with my swollen bloodied lip. We're walking out after the service and there's a wonderful breeze so I suggest to John that we take a stroll up to Cathedral Square; my feet are hurting by the time we get to the end of the Square, so John offers to go back, get the car and pick me up. I sit down on a ledge near some wonderful giant pots of flowers to wait when it starts sprinkling. So I cross over Division Ave. to wait under the canopy of a vacant store-front (where on weekdays prostitutes ply their trade). Wouldn't you know, before John can return, members from church (one an elder) in two different vehicles drive by and ask me, with my swollen lip, if I need help. Hey, that's how rumors get started.
