That which does not kill me ...

I've found 17 caches in the last 48 hours. I would go find more, but I've been grounded.

Yesterday, you see, I went out caching with my brother-in-law Calmen and his son, and walking back to the car down a wet, grassy slope, I had a little accident. The grass under my right foot let go and my right leg went sliding downhill with the rest of my body lagging behind. My ankle made several snapping noises as my foot bent down parallel to my shin, and then I landed on my side and slid some more. Mucho mud. Fair bit of pain. Embarrassment factor off the scale. A great deal of raucous laughter from the nephew.

So I got home, threw my clothes in the laundry, and stayed off the ankle all day and all night. This morning when I got up, I thought I was good as new, so I begged Hubby to come caching with me. We found exactly one. We looked for another one but the satellite gods were not with us, and by then Hubby noticed how much I was wincing whenever I put weight on that ankle.

Once we got back to the car, he strongly suggested I not do any more geocaching today.

Yup -- grounded. (pout)