I was sitting with my elbow on ice yesterday and needed distraction, as if one isn't already distracted by life. I chose something from Rogers on Demand, curious about the title" "Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool". Have you heard of it? Just issued in 2017, fairly good reviews, didn't go anywhere.

It's based on the eponymous book by Peter Turner about his love affair with actress Gloria Grahame when she was in her fifties and he was 26. Remember Gloria Grahame? I do, but I didn't remember that Grahame is spelled with an e. She was saved from a bad life by Jimmy Stewart in "It's a A Wonderful Life"; she was the errant wife in "The Bad and the Beautiful": and she was Betty Hutton's competition in "The Greatest Show on Earth". That's from my memory. I'll look her up now....

She won the Oscar for best supporting actress for her role in The Bad and the Beautiful (1952), and seems to be the very model of the sexy, tempting women in a series of film noir movies but she never became a front-rank star. Her life was wrecked by scandal. Late in her life she met young Peter Turner and became the everlasting love of his life. She turned to him when she was ill and lived with him and his family in Liverpool, until one of her sons took her back to New York to die within hours of arriving.

Peter Turner (played by Jamie Bell, of Billy Eliot fame, co-starring with Annette Benning) is in his 60s now and the author of the book about his love and Grahame's death. He never married; he's still in love with her. The movie is not a soap opera, saved by the strength and credibility of the two leading actors.

One of the articles I read about Grahame quoted a line of hers from The Bad and he Beautiful that I have used for years: "I am happy to say." It indicates giving into temptation in a charming way. (Simple example: "You are tempting me, I am happy to say.")

My elbow is on ice again today, as I write. How do we know where we're going until we see where we've been?

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.