This morning was a bad one for me. Rearranging the fire in the
upstairs fireplace, I banged the back of my head on the lintel. Peggy
could see and hear that I was upset. Less than five minutes later, I
passed through the partially completed partition between the new
bedrooms, didn’t duck far enough, and clocked the top of my head.
Our bed was not far away, so I went and sat down, half crying, half
cursing. Peggy was in the “family room” (our old bedroom). I heard
her go into Miriam’s room, repeating “Mama hurt. Mama hurt. Hurt
head.” (The only thing wrong with this communication is that Miriam
didn’t pay any attention.) Gretchen.