I’m sporting two scars on my left arm. They are white, in stark contrast to the sun-kissed (okay, wrinkled and crinkled) skin surrounding them. I got them from running into a bush in my front yard.
Right next to one scar is a large dark-red blotch. The blotch is just sitting there, refusing to fade. But that’s okay. That blotch formed when a large, happy dog jumped up on me to say hello.
I like my front yard. I love meeting people and their pets while out walking in the neighborhood.
Even the scar above my left eyebrow is a nice reminder of the fun I had as a child jumping up and down on my parents’ bed. It was only a matter time before I would crash into the headboard and split open the skin above my left eye. Yep, a lot of blood and seven stitches.
I guess I should also mention the 5-inch scar on my upper chest. That one is from surgery to remove skin cancer. Years and years of being in the sun might have caused it; the jury is out on that one. At least I wear a hat now and keep the scar covered.