We didn't exactly choose our wedding date. We fell into it. We originally planned to be married in January of 1972, but Delia came down with pneumonia and spent the scheduled date in the hospital instead. When she got out, we had only two options: the middle of April or late August. Everything else was booked up.

At least we got a date that is easy to remember, the day taxes are usually due. They were due 4/17 this year but I submitted them 4/13 instead, knowing I was going to be busy with party preparations.

Not an anniversary party on Saturday. We were having guests over to celebrate Easter on Sunday.

Cathy was going to cook a lamb leg. She did a bunch of other stuff too, but the main course was to be lamb, cooked in Cathy's new roaster oven. You've probably seen similar machines the last two months of each year, as they are popular for roasting turkeys in.

Since the machine was new, it needed to cure. That is, we had to turn it on at maximum power for at least an hour to burn off the oils left by the manufacturing process. That was to be my job. To make sure I remembered to take it downstairs, Cathy placed it under a chair near the front door.

Delia had to work on Saturday. She was going to decorate her display in the store with flowers and picked up an extra bunch of roses to decorate the house for the party. She passed by the house with them on her way to work, and I went out to get them.

On my way in, carrying the flowers, I tripped over the roaster oven. I managed to protect the flowers from damage but came down hard on my left knee.

I couldn't move at first. After about ten minutes, I managed to scuttle, crab-wise, over to a chair and hoist myself up into it. The knee immediately began to swell. Cathy wanted to call an ambulance but I refused to cooperate. I also refused to let her take me to the emergency room, insisting I would survive. She brought me a moist bath towel and an ice pack.

I spent most of that day in that same chair, moving only when nature forced me to. I consumed a Tylenol-3 and, later, a couple of my Tylenol arthritis formula.

Sunday I calmed the pain with a constant stream of a more natural remedy, wine. I would rather use a natural remedy instead of some kind of chemical. For several days since then I used neither Tylenol nor wine.

I was unable to see a doctor on Monday, but I did visit a bone doctor on Tuesday morning. Xrays showed that no bones were broken. The pattern of bruises developing on my leg were typical of a hamstring tear, so the doctor did an ultrasound. He had Delia watch the screen during the procedure. They both giggled when I coughed and the fluid in my knee sloshed back and forth. He said that the stuff that looked like seaweed in the surf was probably streaks of blood in the liquid.

My knee is still swollen. It is full of fluid, some of which is blood. It was twice as big as normal, but the swelling has gone down a bit. The rug burn, where the skin was scraped off, is red. The doctor warned me to call my primary physician if it seemed to become infected. Otherwise, I'm to walk as much as I can manage and I should rest the leg frequently. I am to return in three weeks, just before I'm due for jury duty.

Oh, and the party was great despite my injury. I didn't dance, which isn't unusual. In fact, our guests hardly noticed that I just sat there, most of the time, without moving.

That's normal for me.