Yesterday I fell down a spoodle hole. It was a hole dug by a spoodle, not a hole full of spoodles, although the latter would have made for a far softer landing. I’d like to say that I stepped down off the mini-tramp (long story) and tumbled headlong into a magical world of rabbits and cake and talking caterpillars. Instead, I stepped down off the mini-tramp and tumbled butt-long onto the grass, my foot becoming perpendicular to my leg as I went. There was a nasty crunching sound to dramatically punctuate my clumsiness (and the spoodle’s treachery).

I braced myself for what was either going to be a hideous bone-protruding injury or nothing at all and pulled off my shoe. In spite of some pain, my ankle seemed fine, so off I went. Yesterday was the day I was finally going to get our home tidy. I had plans to steam clean the rug, dammit! Naturally, within a couple of hours, my ankle had puffed up and I was struggling to walk. Sigh…

I’ve never sprained my ankle before. It did occur to me that I should probably sit down and ice it at the time, but I really was very busy and it seemed a little soft to be lounging about when there was no real sign of injury.

The spoodle feigning nonchalance near the scene of the crime.

I do believe that it’s important to be kind and nurturing towards myself. While Vin is very protective, I don’t really have nurturing people in my life (although Ni and Ly show potential), so I think it’s even more important that I do the job myself. Conversely, having suffered chronic fatigue and severe depression for many years (until I began to identify food sensitivities a few years ago), I am always acutely aware that pushing myself beyond my perceived limitations is similarly important. In fact in the case of depression, it can become a matter of life or death – and no, that’s not an over-statement. Balancing the two is a fraught process. I never really get it right. The same can be true of our loved ones. Sometimes there’s a fine line between nurturing and enabling or smothering.

In relation to myself, it’s generally best to err on the side of pushing, rather than nurturing, notwithstanding the occasional temporary low level crippling. The stakes are lower that way. I’ll just have to give myself a little extra love to make up for it.

For the record, my ankle is better today after a rest and I’m enjoying a slower paced day, in spite of the lingering mess. I’m also thinking it might be time we neutered the spoodle. It won’t help my ankle or stop him digging holes, of course, but it’s bound to make me feel better.