By the time you read this I will have turned 74. (Jan. 2nd)

On Sunday (12/29) I stubbornly decided to paint one back wall in the living room.

After over 40+ operations, including organ removal, two total knee replacements and a half dozen foot operations, getting up off the floor is, let’s say, an operation in itself.

Over the past year and a half, I have fallen off no fewer than three ladders while attempting chores around the homestead.

While on a ladder, putting lights on the front yard tree, the unsteady ladder providedan eight foot tumble. A driver passing by stopped and was assured I was okay, a bit sore, but okay.

In the second case, while Wife Patti was holding the ladder, another fall occurred after she let go for just a second. A trip to an urgent care facility was required, but again I lived to climb again.

On the above Sunday (12/29) I had take my sneakers off after one shoe was steeped in some wet pain drops. With only socks on and up on a step ladder, my foot hit the floor and down I went.

The fall was bad enough, but I hit a high plant stand and a ceramic pot crashed down and hit me in the head, shattering pot in all directions.

I immediately felt pain and a quick body check indicated no broken bones, but a golf ball knob and some blood indicated not all was well, but survivable.

The worst part of the fall was my mouth, nose and left ear totally filled with potting soil and plant fertilizer.

Wife Patti witnessed the tumble and the resulting mess, not only around the crash site, but over my entire body. I kind of resembled an odd looking dirt monster from head to foot.

After catching what was left of my awareness, I scurried to the laundry room peeling off my dirt covered clothes. Across the hall is the bathroom, where I discovered a bloody, dirty forehead, thinking perhaps stitches would be necessary.

I jumped into the shower, and after an extended removal of plant residue discovered the lumpy head, a scratch,,  but otherwise healthier than I thought man.

I continued to remove dirt from my nose and mouth for several minutes and collected my thoughts.

It was then that I fully realized why my sons, Wade and Devin, along with Wife Patti had demanded I stay off ladders. I may be young in mind and challenges, but most definitely no longer ladder qualified.

It is difficult coming to the point of no-return-to-ladders and perhaps coming to the realization I am 74 and overly stubborn.

It is time to let the next generation, or hired help do the climbing and just concentrate on the chair sitting-typing and phone calling settling.

Don’t get me wrong, I will not be entirely sedentary and will continue the non-climbing chores, but heights are now off limits....for the most part.

Son Devin arrived after the fall and helped Wife Patti clean up the mess and the paint spots left by now settled down dog who also stepped and spread paint paws after the excitement.

The end result of the head plant and plant residue was a very sore noggin and neck pain. I have a metal bridge running up my neck from two operations to repair the upper spine. I often tell airport TSA  screen operators, that I have more titanium and assorted metals and plastics in  my body that a modern day fighter plane. On the downside of time, I know that a 74 year-old has his limitations. Do I really expect to see grandchildren graduate and move on in life? Bottom line, with all the medical procedures and patchwork body rebuilding, I have outlived in age, my father, older brother, and most prior clan men.

Modern medical procedures along with my immediate family have persisted in pushing me in the right direction and the non-climbing of ladders is yet another push in my longevity.

That, and the pressure of the next newspaper deadline.