As I was drying off from my bath this morning, I noticed the scar on my knee. Don’t most people have a scar on their knee?  It’s a right of passage when we’re young.  At some point, we must get a scar on our knee.  An elbow is another good place to find a scar.

This is my scar:

scars1

I keep thinking it’s blue/grey because of the road gravel that has been in there all these years.  Here’s the story:

We were living in England (Teeton Northampton) where the hounds would be exercised for the hunt early in the morning.  Before school, my sister and I would walk the dogs up the road. On this particular morning, the hounds and horses were coming down the road. I was afraid our dog would go after the hounds so I started to run home. Our dog, Romper, pulled me over and I went sliding along the gravel.  Of course we cleaned it and it never got infected (maybe the dirt was “cleaner” back then Winking smile) but it healed blue/grey, the color of the gravel.  Although I was in tears back then, it always brings a smile to my face now. I’m happy with my scar.

The other scar:

scars2

This one is on my forearm.  I underwent surgery about 12 years ago.  The doctor ordered a clotting test.  Two sharp blade points were stuck in my arm and a nurse sat dabbing the blood until it clotted, making note of how long it took.  I remember hoping I was a super clotter, in the respect of impressing the doctor and nurse of my bodies clotting ability.  That didn’t happen.  I was simply a normal clotter.  This scar holds neutral memories for me. It wasn’t fun but it did have certain life changing effects.

My other scars:  On my chin – a friend tossed a thermos cap and it hit me in the chin. The plastic seam cut into my chin.  I remember that “friends” name: Karen Garabotto.  HEY KAREN! –THANKS!

My little toe:  I was cooling off a horse after riding and it stepped on my foot leaving yet another bluish hue.  It’s more pink now a days but it’s still discolored. 

I have a scar on my chest and a scar on my upper arm. I’m not sure where they came from. Maybe during my crazy college years?  No, my college years weren’t that crazy. It doesn’t matter. They’re my permanent tattoos and for what ever reason, I’m proud of them.

Some scars we can’t see because they run deep down inside.  There has been a lot of discussion lately about bullying in schools which made me think of the scars left by other kids and even adults in life.  I’m sure we all have them but some of us are more sensitive than others.  The scars can run deep and change our personalities forever.  They are part of life that determines who we are.  Sometimes we oppose the negative aspects of the scars molding us into a better person later in life.  Sometimes we absorb the negativity and form resentment which displays itself towards the people we meet.  We begin to judge people without giving them a chance. 

What can we do about those scars that have made us more negative or anti social?  Is therapy the solution?  I think it depends on how deep the impression and how we handle the knocks in life.  Sometimes professional help is required. Sometimes simply the ear of a good friend or family member.

I don’t feel right talking about scars then offering a recipe so I’ll share something cool that happened yesterday.  The MAIL!

The brochures arrived with the winners of the California Raisin Bread Contest from last year.   So cool!  I’m in PRINT! Open-mouthed smile

It’s not the best photo, but then, who looks good in a hair net… and, by the way, thanks CA Raisin Board for putting this photo in the book ….AHHH!  Embarrassed smile

If THAT’S not a scar, I don’t know what is!

Do you have any scars that make you smile? laugh? cry? Hold special memories for you?

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