Jack and Jill: a cautionary tale

I had a temporary lapse in good judgement yesterday.

I know, you're shocked.

Amelia and I learned how to make Japanese kites the other day, and I was aching to try them out. (I didn't realize I really would ache once I did.)

We went to aptly named Fault Line Park. It's up a STEEP hill, and the park is actually situated ON the fault line. I stood at the edge of the playground. (You can't see the hill below you unless you look straight down). There wasn't much wind. I tried running around, but nothing doing. Then I had the brilliant idea to run down the hill. I unwound the kite a bit and took off.

My legs were going almost as fast as they could go. I couldn't stop, and when I got near the bottom of the hill, (where there is a very flat, hard parking lot with lots of spiky gravel) it was so steep my feet stepped out into air. That fault line is really a cliff.

After my trip, I left Matt there with the girls. Towing our lifelessly droopy kites, and all bruised and bloody (but not broken) slowly made my way home.

Matt took pity on me and came home early to patch me up.