We march to the beat of an indifferent drum

I sometimes wonder when I will grow out of my clumsiness. I will be 32 in less than a month and I still trip and fall and spill like I was a toddler. I made up some batches of Barolo wine the other day at work and I was moving the five-gallon glass carboys onto the shelf so they could have a nice quiet place to ferment when the worst happened. I heard the dreaded 'clink' of glass on glass and within seconds I was up to my ankles in thick, red wine. It seeped out onto the winery floor, into the cellar...everywhere...
I screamed 'HOLY SHIT!!' and everyone came running back to see the red mess all over the place. It took several hours to clean it all up. Dorothy and Bill weren't mad because it was an accident, but the rest of the day's chores got put on hold while the clean-up ensued. Oy.
The dogs are good and the pups are huge. We're planning some fun adventures for the summer, but are looking for someone to dogsit. Work is getting busy and I've been meeting some really cool people, but other than that nothing else is new.
Photos to come.
Peace