I didn't die today either, but I was stupid lucky...

It was not my intention to be writing a safety blog, rather I am blogging along to discover my “why” as Simon says:

and I really have made some strides there that I want to share with you since my last blog, but that's the end of the story. Alas, here I am writing my second story about a safety moment, actually a series of safety moments (bad decisions really) that could have led to a very bad ending.

It all started innocently enough when I decided to turn a small area of my yard that was impossible to mow into a dry creek bed garden. I discovered a large rock pile in my woods and decided that they’d make nice accents along the “bank”, so I patiently dug out a few dozen 50 – 125# rocks, and very creatively moved them 250’ or so with an old sled and my trusty ’90 Honda 4-wheeler.

I was really proud of this accomplishment, after all I safely moved about a ton of stone all by myself without getting hurt, until I started to itch. Really itch. And then it occurred to me: the vines I was whisking away so gleefully in the woods were likely poison ivy. Geez, that was stupid not to consider the environment of my work zone (bad decision #1). Battling the itching with allergy medications really didn’t help, and a few days later I ended up in urgent care with a rash up and down my arms and legs. I got a cortisone shot, life got better and the next day I got back to work.

While sharing the woes of my hard rock labor toils at work (creating a dry creek bed garden is no small task!), I learned that there are some really cool statuaries you can “fly” in the grass of the Garden, so at a local festival I bought a Crappie, a Bass and a Sea Turtle. 

A few weekends ago, once I had the base of the creek bed dug out, laid over with paper in prep for the gravel base and river stones to come, I situated the fish in some blue fescue. The turtle, being about fifty pounds, had a trident-like mounting post made of rebar. After some sweaty hours in 90+ degree heat that morning, I was ready to set the centerpiece of my garden, and with sweaty hands and no gloves (bad decision #2) I pushed the (rusty) rebar trident into the ground. Only it wasn’t quite straight and while muscling it around I sliced open the palm of my hand, sending me back to urgent care,

where this time I got a tetanus shot (with a bonus whooping cough inoculation included for free). Enough for one weekend.

Two weekends ago, I was ready to mulch the banks of the creek bed, so I loaded up my old Chevy truck with double black mulch, and wheel barrow by wheel barrow load I carefully scooped out shovelfuls of this beautiful landscaping accent along the edges of my deck, house and garage, to make the creek bed garden pop with definition.

I had previously noticed that one of my dogs, Mesa Boogie, spent a lot of time between the AC unit and the corner of the house trying to catch something (I wasn't sure what), and being that she was in my way at this moment actually, I shooed her away. I really should have paid more attention to what she was doing though (bad decision #3), because when I was so studiously placing the mulch, being careful not to spill it onto the creek bed stones, one of those angry winged creatures she had just stirred up stung me right in the eyebrow. It burned, bad, swelled my eye closed, and here was trip number three to urgent care.

At this point, I’m thinking maybe I should focus on some other home projects for a while and give the hard labor a rest. I had some business travel planned to North Carolina, which is a lovely summer drive from NW Ohio. It was a successful business development endeavor, and on my return trip, near the end of my long journey home (I had stopped twice to run WebEx meetings from the road, and to visit my parents who were just 50 miles out of my flight path), when I stopped to take a client call in a grocery parking lot after hours. Since it was dark and abandoned, I pulled in under a street light, stopped the car and took the call (great decision!). However, after the call, I was so tired and distracted from a 15+ hour work day and a 450 mile road trip thus far that I turned right into the concrete base of that light pole

and did $3000 damage to my car. I got home around midnight, and resolved that tomorrow would be a better, safer day.

It’s convenient that I work right next door to a reputable Ford dealership / body shop where I took my Murano for (cosmetic) repairs. Coincidently, just a day later I would end up taking my truck to this same shop (mechanical problems), so I threw my mountain bike in the back and rode to work after dropping it off there too. After all, my job was less than a half mile away so the ride would be easy and surely one of my vehicles would be done later that day (bad assumption), or one of my coworkers could give me a lift home. Well it turns out that neither vehicle would be ready for some days yet, I lost track of time immersed in work, and ended up being the last one in the office that day, so I had to ride my bicycle home.

Well here is the series of bad decisions (#4 - #10) that could have ended up with me getting badly hurt anywhere along the way: I didn’t check the bike tires for air (they had 30 pounds and needed 55), I had no helmet, I had to ride home about 7 miles along a state highway with a 12” berm loaded with heavy semi-tractor trailer traffic wearing jeans and sandals in 88 degree summer weather with a 30 pound back pack strapped to my back. Fortunately, I was able to get air in my tires, and thus able to start my bike ride home. 

I told myself that I was in pretty good shape, and some years ago (I actually did the math during this ride, it was 18 years ago), I used to ride this very bike frequently on 20+ mile treks with a child in tow in a pull-behind carrier – how hard could this short ride home be? Well, it was hellish! Every 5 seconds a car or truck whizzed by, my bike wavered towards a deep ditch, I was breathing hard and sweating so badly that the saltwater running down my face, neck and back burned my eyes and made it near impossible to see where I was going. "It'll be easy" - famous last words – I was truly lucky to make it home unscathed.

So the moral of the story is this: “plan your work”! How many times have l heard this, and yet, when it comes to the personal work, sometimes I just bumble along like a 16 year old girl thinking about boys. Well lesson learned! And I hope my sharing it with you, and my journey to discover my "why" has been worth the read. On a final note, I believe that living an authentic life is taking me closer to my purpose, my "why" as Simon says – being completely genuine with social media, friends, co-workers and family, and my spirituality, have led me to a happier place of self-acceptance, and God’s grace. And I don't believe it was stupid luck, it was that hedge of protection, which I ask for daily, that continues to protect me and my family; may your journeys be as fruitful my friends!

Blessings,

Julie

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. (James 1:2-3)