by the skin of my teeth.

Almost a year ago I had my first accident since 1977. Yesterday. I almost had another. It was millimeters from happening.

I was driving down Broadway to come home. I had just past the Old American Legion and the Speed shop. The next intersection would be Hoffert. Facing me, a car was stopped to turn left. I thought he was waiting. He wasn't. HE TURNED. I threw on my breaks. I left skid marks. I missed him by a hair. Thank goodness the guy behind me figured out what was going on or there would have been a Gayle sandwich. Never good.

In many ways I just want to be a pedestrian. There are no job ops in my depressed neighborhood, so that means I have to find a lot of work online. Since I'm job shopping that might be possible.

I signed up for this race back in December. It was a beautiful day. I haven't been to a race in so long it was a little surreal. I felt like I didn't belong. And I was alone. I'm rarely alone at these things. I few minutes before the race I hear a voice. It's my friend Pam. She was there with her running group, The Foxy Ladies.  They were foxy alright, with their kilts and crowns.

It was time to line up, I moved to the back. There was a many with a day care stroller and four children. They were about a year apart. All the people with single strollers were going, glad that's not me.

By the time we reached Tilghman street I could hear the sweep van behind me.  I picked it up. I tried to pass people. But soon I got into my head, and tripped but didn't fall. I saw the barricade and turned. It wasn't long before I realized I was on the wrong street.  Then I had to get back on course. I probably shaved 10 minutes off the course. I usually run into the bagpipers. I didn't this year.

After my near-miss coming home, I went to the Comfort Suites. The found the Volkssport walk box. It was behind the security monitor. Always the first place I'd look.