I hit an uneven tile on the way. I went down. The tub went up. Pumpkin went everywhere.


I told the story to John when he came home from work. I had cleaned my face, clothes, the floor and the walls, so there was very little evidence let of my disaster. He felt bad and hugged me in sympathy. As I reached up to receive the sympathetic hug I got a look at the ceiling. Unfortunately I did photograph it. It was covered in bright orange spatter. It looked like a Jackson Pollock work. I had to sponge mop my ceiling.