I was coming back in from the woodshop. A long walk... geez, gotta be at least, I don't know, twenty yards.
What? Where was I? Oh, yeah, walking (rolling back in) from the shop with my walker, when a Three Stooges moment occurred.
I am coming up the ramp to the side porch when I hear the sound of an angry boat motor with the prop out of the water right beside my head.

I suddenly realize it's a horse fly the size of a hockey puck. (Okay, almost)
Hey, it HAD nav lights!

It buzzed my head on a straffing run, and I smacked (at) it. I put some effort into that strike, missed that small dive bomber but connected. With my left ear.

Not good... it was a solid strike and a couple things happened.
It actually hurt worse than the bite of that horse fly might of... seriously. I'm allergic to those bites and they swell like a golf ball.
Worse yet, I also hit my hearing aide receiver.

That thing squealed at max volume. Felt like an ice pick stuck in my ear. Idjit.

Good thing Miss T wasn't around with her smart phone, I'd be on youtube already.
When you are this coordinated, you may as well go ahead and change your name....
... to Grace.
