Log of the Lost and Broken

I'd been injury-free for a couple of years--a record for me--until a couple of weeks ago when I injured myself two days in a row.

The task was simple: move a shelving unit four feet away from a heating vent so workmen could come in and change the filter. A normal woman would have ascertained that the easiest way to do this would be to remove all the heavy electronics components, DVDs, and books from the unit to make it lighter.

I, however, decided to shove the shelving unit by brute force away from the wall. Leaning down, I grasped the corner and pushed hard. At that moment, I distinctly felt something go "pop!" in the side of my back. And then I felt a sharp pain.

The next night, while walking along Bloor St., I tripped on a clear plastic string that was sticking up from the sidewalk, and fell down hard on the beautiful granite pavement--right knee first, and then my entire right arm took the force of the fall.

The knee pain and back pain went away within days; my arm is slowly getting better, and I was even able to do all the usual shoulder and chest exercises at the gym recently. This is important, as I need to be in top shape for the summer's gonzo canoe trip in the remote Boreal forest.

Though injury-free, the first few months of 2013 have been replete with incidents of breakage and loss. And not being prone to magical thinking, I cannot blame it on the Mayan apocalypse.

The inventory goes something like this:

Lost

• 1 gold earring: Very annoying because to replace it; I have to buy two new earrings, not just one.
• 1 makeup bag: Extremely annoying, since it contained a brand-new expensive lipstick, which I then had to go out and re-buy.
• 2 mittens: One was inside the other (my hands get cold!), which means I lost two from two sets, a double whammy.
• 2 grapefruit spoons! Love those serrated edges.

Broken

• Cellphone screen: Dropped the phone, creating a jaggedy crack that's getting bigger.
• Stapler: I was kind of glad, since it was old and ugly anyway. 
• Silver chain: You'd think since it's real silver it would be sturdier, but no.
• Knapsack zipper: The rest of the bag was fine--but I had to throw it out -- how wasteful!
• Watch: Such a drag that my Swatch just stopped ticking. So much for the Swiss.
• Computer: Yes, I'm still using the old iMac, and it's turquoise. It keeps crashing and making ominous electro-shock noises
• Boot heel: It's come off, and shoe repairers refuse to try to put it back on! Now what?
• Wallet: The zipper broke right off, and the button to close it stopped working, so I threw it out (more waste!) and began using the Fossil wallet I received at a Dean Brody CD release party.
• Mirror: I bought it cheap at Canadian Tire, and the bottom part of the frame has come off, meaning the glass has slipped down, to  reveal the ugly cardboard underneath.
• Hem of living room curtain - ripped! Thanks, kitty...

Lost but found again

• Wallet: I left it at the cash register at Loblaws Queen W., and when I rushed back there in a panic, the cashier had turned it in to customer service. There really are good people in the world.

Confiscated by airport security

• Swiss Army knife: It was a good one too, with all the attachments a girl needs to open bottles and cans in the wilderness.

Easter on the escarpment

It was a perfect day for hawk watching. Beamsville conservation area is known to be a magnet for those superbirds of prey, particularly the special birdwatching platform constructed for avid birders. For a reason I couldn't fathom, the hawks were supposed to do regular fly-bys past the platform, thrilling birders with their aerial acrobatics.

But T. and I were disappointed. No hawks flew over our heads -- just a lot of turkey vultures, drifting high above us over the Niagara escarpment.

We decided to hike down into the river valley and eat our lunch. Mine was a peanut butter sandwich, and I was perturbed to see that half the peanut butter had oozed out through the cracks of the sandwich box and spread all over the interior of my knapsack. Everything--wallet, makeup bag, pens, maps--was coated in a layer of oily peanut butter. T., for her part, had actually forgotten to bring her lunch, which was languishing uneaten back in the truck.

Above us, the vultures circled, getting closer and closer, scoping us out for pillaging purposes.

"They're not getting any of my food," I said, attempting to hide my sandwich from all those eyes in the sky.

By the end of the day, the conservation people had posted hawk sighting numbers on their website. A great number of hawks had been sighted after our departure, along with approximately 740 turkey vultures.

"They must be the same vultures coming back and flying over the same area." I told T. cynically, finding it hard to believe the sky had been darkened with so many vultures, like some kind of biblical plague.

T. and I congratulated ourselves on resisting the temptation to stop at the numerous wineries along the escarpment. Many of them were offering free samples, which would have been a disaster for our livers. Not to mention the possibility of passing out hammered in a field somewhere, and waking up with 740 vultures circling above us.