Glass in my foot.

A few days ago, after we had returned from the Nelsonville Music Festival,  I sat down at the kitchen table with a glass of wine to check my email.  It was the last of the bottle and I was looking forward to some internet down time while the girls got ready for bed.  Ready to be rid of my festival wristband, I set my wine glass down, yanked at my left wrist to pull it off, my right hand slipped,  my left hand punched the glass full of wine and sent it soaring across the kitchen only to shatter, shatter, shatter everywhere.  I thought I got it all cleaned up, but a few days later a tiny crumb of glass lodged itself into the ball of my foot.  It hurt like a $%#@$%, but it also put one of my all-time favorite songs in my head, so in a funny little way, I was grateful.

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