Well, not much blood but mishaps are time-consuming, hence my current lapse.

I fell on Bloor Street Friday afternoon. Falls are deadly for old people.I try to keep limber in order to fall as well as I can, that is, with the least amount of damage when I do fall. Falls are also inevitable. I tripped over a manhole cover and went down face forward. Here's the good news: I did not land on my face. It was a four-point landing: knees and fore-arms. I was pretty shook up. Later, at home, after a rare-for-me pill with some ice on the sorest part - my right elbow - and a sleep, I tried to assess the damage. I couldn't swim; it hurt to move my arm.

I'm having trouble pushing the keys on my laptop; any pressure on the fingers, especially the thumb of my right hand, hurts to the elbow and shoulder. (Reminds me of that song about being connected.) Anyway, by Saturday afternoon when I had trouble slicing a tomato, I accepted help from my son and daughter-in-law. They dropped me at Emerg at Mt. Sinai Hospital. I had the Ian Rankin novel with me that I have been reading while I pedal, so I was prepared.

I am constantly impressed with the efficiency, sympathy, patience and good humour of the staff in emergency wards. I'm going to write a thank-you letter after my blog. They took X-rays and told me I had torn ligaments, to be confirmed by the head radiologist on Monday. No swimming for a while but I can do some physiotherapy. The only hitch is that I'm going to Winnipeg later this week to attend the 80th birthday party of my last living relative - of my generation. I'll need help with my carry-on bag so I have asked for a wheelchair (I'm still a bit shaken too).

"Tell me," said the doctor reading my X-rays, " how you managed to reach 87 with only sciatica and no medications?"

Good ancestors, I guess, plus swimming.

I take my good health and moderate strength for granted until something like this happens and I have trouble slicing a mushroom (worse than tomatoes).

All I can say - to you as well as to me - be careful.

Here's a great book I received from my grandson and his wife for Christmas: You're Saying It Wrong: "A pronunciation guide to the 150 most commonly mispronounced words and their tangled histories of misuse"

Obviously my kids know me well. I am a stickler about pronunciation as well as about grammar. I must be very careful about offering correction if at all, because my (gentle - really!) suggestions are not well received. I, on the other hand, welcome correction - really! I say thank you (and then I check it, to be sure). I started a long time ago.

I inherited a pronouncing dictionary from my grandfather and I still use it. Published by G.P. Putnam's Sons, copyright 1889, running to at least six editions. Mine, the sixth, is dated 1926, and this new edition has a 2000-word supplement. I love it.

I'll tell you my pet peeve: people who mispronounce the noun, forte (a strength or talent at which someone excels). I's a noun, not an adverb, and it is NOT pronounced for-tay. Even John Gielgud says it wrong in The Importance of Being Earnest (I have the recording). So that was the first word I looked up in my new book. Of course, it's one of the 150. It acknowledges that the error has become acceptable. Bad for me, though. I quote from the commentary: "...pedants still delight in saying 'fort' and in correcting those who opt for the two-syllable pronunciation...and they are (technically) correct." [I like being technically correct.]

The 1926 dictionary gives niche one pronunciation: nich. My new one grants first-choice neesh and NICH is in second place. (I'm trying to write - n-i-c-h as a word but auto-correct keeps changing it to inch.

NEXT MORNING: Sorry I had to go to bed. There was a double header yesterday and I couldn't stay up for the end of the second game. Blue Jays lost. More anon.