Tags
cane, Dog, flight, free book, gingerbread houses, humor, India, international travel
If it’s January, it must be India…
You might think, after we’ve been making these January trips to India for a decade, that we would be better at it. Actually, only those who don’t know me might think that. The rest of you won’t be the least surprised to hear things didn’t quite go as planned.
It started just before Christmas. My adorable little neighbors came over to help make gingerbread houses while their parents took care of top-secret Santa stuff.

Brother: I’m making yellow snow where Barb’s cats went.
Sister: I’m making dog poo on the snow because some people don’t clean up. Oh, and some litter…
Barb: That’s… festive.
Their realistic snow statements gave my little dog an idea. Despite the fact that it was pouring down a mixture of rain and sleet, I headed outside with her. Two steps into the garden, she saw something that urgently needed investigating, and the next thing I knew one foot was sliding in front of me while the other attempted to go in the opposite direction.
Events of the next few seconds are a bit blurred, but when I took stock, I noticed my right knee was turned in a direction it had never willingly attempted before. I lay on my back in several inches of freezing mud and thought about life. On the one hand, if I never moved again, I might be okay (except for the whole freezing to death thing). On the other hand, I had two young children waiting inside, and I was pretty sure they would gleefully be adding little frosted corpses to their snowscapes in my honor.
I rolled over and attempted to get to my feet. One leg worked. The other… didn’t. I crawled inside, the dog solicitously hovering by my side to lick my face. Inside, my two young guests were in awe of the amount of mud that entered with me. I’m pretty sure next year’s gingerpersons will include a mud-caked old lady.
Although my knee was impersonating a soccer ball, nothing seemed to be broken. My doctor recommended at least three weeks of good rest. I told him about our upcoming India trip, for which my friend Jaya had spent the last few months planning every detail. My doctor then recommended drugs, the good ones. “No problem,” I said. My traveling companions have spent their working careers in the pharmaceutical and medical fields, and there is nothing they enjoy more than an excuse to shovel legal drugs into me.
I hobbled around the next day, glad at least that my India trip was several days off. That’s when I heard from the airline that my flight (which had been booked for months) was cancelled, and I would have to leave a few days early.
When you live on an island connected only via dodgy ferry service, you learn that you can’t count on timely deliveries. So we reluctantly said goodbye to our Hogmanay (New Year’s Eve) plans at the Village Hall, and headed for the last boat out.
That just left two things for me to do.
- Learn to walk with a cane.
- Pack for India.
That’s when Jaya called to say she thought it would be a good idea to schedule some talks about our travel books. Only in places we’re already going anyway. “It will be easy,” she said. No big deal. Okay, sure. I just had to add a few things to my list.
3. Write a talk for each separate event. Write a generic talk we can use at all the events. Pick an old blog post and use that.
4. Bring books, buy new business cards, develop promos.
5. Tell Janine and Jaya to choose photos for each trip.
6. Tell Janine and Jaya that even though they have taken about 10,000 photos over the past decade we’ve been travelling India together, they are only allowed six photos for each trip.
7. Count to six for Janine and Jaya. Stay firm.
8. Tell Janine and Jaya to stop crying. When that doesn’t work, try bribes. (“Okay, okay. If you’re very good, you can each pick ONE more photo per trip.)
9. Buy a complete new trip wardrobe. Buy the essentials such as new underwear that doesn’t have holes and a new coat that doesn’t lose feathers through the rip from my Christmas Eve fall and make me look like I’m molting. Duck-tape the coat rips. Ditto for the underwear.
10. Set the alarm for the middle of the night and go to bed early so I get at least a couple hours sleep despite my revolting knee-blob.
So far so good. I had just fallen asleep, when the house exploded. At least, that’s what it sounded like to me. The dog was also very concerned. When the banging and cursing died down, I asked the Hub if he was okay. There was a short interval of panting, and then a reply. “No.”
As I pieced it together, he didn’t want to disturb my rest, so he was attempting to get ready for bed in the dark when the bathroom door viciously assaulted him. I got the light on, and wow. Heads really bleed a lot.
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “If you hold the edges together, I can just superglue it together and drive you to the airport.”
I told him he was delirious and called the NHS. The very nice lady on the other end asked a lot of questions, and she and I agreed that he should go to the hospital and allow actual medical people to put his face back together. He should be prepared, she added, to spend the rest of the night there.
We looked at each other, and at my packed suitcase. There was no way he could go to a busy emergency room and make it back before I had to leave. And of course, there was the dog. He floated the superglue idea again, which both the nurse and I vetoed, while the dog looked concerned.
So yes, fellow bloggers. This is when I earned my title of the Worst Wife On The Planet. I sent a bleeding Hub in a taxi to the hospital. Alone. Then I waited a few hours, walked the dog, locked up the house, and went on an international trip.
Epilogue #1
It turned out that cane was incredibly useful. I’ll probably never travel without it again, because every time I got in an airport line, from ticketing to security to flight boarding, a solicitous airline employee would immediately pick me out, bypass all the waiting passengers with normal-size knees, and insist I move to the front of whatever queue was going.

My superpowered cane lets me leap long queues with a single limp. It’s also a family heirloom, signed “HAND CARVED BY EINAR H. STALLVIK”. I can’t thank Einar enough.
The Hub reported (eventually) that he had finally seen a doctor who — and I couldn’t make this up — superglued his forehead back together.
Epilogue #2
While the Hub went to bed with a three-day headache, I landed in India. Many adventures still wait to be shared, but for those who wonder why I do it, please take a look at the following comparison between upcoming forecasts for Scotland vs India.
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Most accidents happen at home so you should be fine in India!
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But what if I feel at home in India? [worried]
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I hope the knee is son in full recovery mode and doesn’t spoil your trip at all. Happy New Year. Hugs
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Actually, the cane is a great way to get pity favors. I’ll be a little sad when my knee is recovered.
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I’m sort of sad that there’s only ONE Barb Taub. Perhaps the planet, and one particular husband, is safer that way?! (Good hearing, Barb!) Take it easy…Cheers!
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I think the Hub is telling people it was all my fault. He’s certainly safer with 4500 miles between us.
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Honestly; one could not make this up; thanks a lot and good health to all of you
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Thanks Kiki! (Although I do wish some of it was made up…)
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I really feel for you…. lots of love.
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Safe travels and safety at home for your husband! Looking forward to your India posts. 😊
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I feel sorry for him stuck in freezing Scotland while I loll around in sunny, warm India. But I suspect he feels safer with me 4500 miles away.
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Barb, you are still the funniest person I know.
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That can’t possibly be true, but thank you so much anyway.
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Dogs can be deadly…I know from personal experience. I’ve never had an altercation with a bathroom door though. I hope you and your husband are in full recovery mode. Have a great trip!
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I would recover a lot more quickly if I could just stop going to all the incredible and amazing places Jaya has booked for us. As if!
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You and your hubs are like inspector clouseau and mcgyver and I mean this in the bast possible way. U hope you both are feeling better . And yes, I would not expect anything less
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I would have expected nothing less from a Barb Taub introduction to the annual India trip! Canes do help a lot when traveling by air, as I learned when I broke a bone in my foot before embarking to Iceland. Looking forward to more adventures, but I have an aversion to heat and humidity (so naturally I live in North Carolina), so I’d take Glascow over India. Which I am doing this summer!
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Which are you doing this summer? Glasgow or India? If it’s Glasgow, I’m expecting you to let me know your schedule so we can get together. If it’s India in the dead of summer — have you lost your mind woman?
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No, absolutely not India! We are doing a Smithsonian tour of Scotland that starts in Glascow and end there as well. send me an emial (sailingawayng@gmail.com) and I can send you the dates.
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We are both doing better, although the bathroom door still bears a grudge. Thanks!
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well, 2 out of 3 ain’t bad )
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Oh goodness what a tale, but I can’t laugh as I have damaged ribs and laughing is off the menu at the moment. Hopefully India will work some healing magic and the hubs recovers too.
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Oh no! So sorry to hear about the ribs. I hope they will heal soon, and that you can take it easy until they do. Meanwhile, I’m hitting every temple I can here, so hopefully there are deities of every persuasion putting in the fix and my knee will be better in no time.
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Oh my goodness! I hope you’re healing and are able to enjoy your travels! I’m surprised we don’t have more accidents in this house as there is always a dog underfoot. So looking forward to hearing about your latest trip (not the tripping over the dog kind). :)
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I don’t think anyone was more surprised than the dog that she was completely innocent in the bathroom door assault. Usually her superpower is to lay down with mathematical precision in the spot most likely to be in the way.
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I laughed out loud at the end – superglue! My goodness – it never rains but it pours at Chez Taub. Hope you and Glue Man are feeling better than when you wrote this…
Three cheers for Einar’s craftsmanship – and yes, I have found myself that outward displays of disability are most useful when travelling!!!
Have a wonderful time and we look forward to hearing all about it :) xx
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Einar was a cane-carving genius, although a lady who sat down next to me leaped up with a scream that I had a snake. In about a nanosecond, half the passengers on the plane were on their feet preparing to flee, so I waved the cane in the air and said the immortal words, “No snakes on the plane. It’s just Great-Granddad’s wood stick.” There was more gasping, and I spent the rest of the flight with the blanket over my head.
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It’s taken me a while to stop laughing enough to actually hit the right keys! I loved the gingerbread houses with yellow snow and turds, and I am genuinely sad to hear about your knee – it’s just the telling of it has made my ribs ache! 🤣🤣🤣 I’m sure you’ll have a memorable trip and I’m really looking forward to reading about it. Soon, please!
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Thanks so much! The trip is going great (let’s hear it for the good drugs). And I’ll try to put up some blog posts, but it’s so hard to tear myself away from the sights and especially the food.
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Just enjoy the experience and write about it on your return. I’m really looking forward to the book already. (I seem to recall that this is not your first holiday with a medical mishap – and I’m afraid the mishaps are entertaining in themselves!)
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All that heat (and the drugs) will do wonders for the knee, Barb. I’m confident you’ll be leaping around again in no time. Have a fab trip and I can’t wait to hear all about it.
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Today we visited a famous temple where a scholar/priest who was (somehow) connected with Jaya’s family was waiting to give us a VIP tour. All I had to do was climb down FOUR flights of stairs. Thank all the gods and goddesses for the good drugs!
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OMG! Could only happen to you and Bart. Superglue!
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I know, right?
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Thanks for sharing this, Barb. Superglue! He he.
Hope you have a wonderful time.
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How can surgical superglue even be a thing? (Although I do remember supergluing two fingers together during one of the kid’s school projects.)
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Our granddaughter’s head was hit by a rogue firework more than ten years ago – superglued…
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You can’t make this stuff up! Barb, this was hilarious except for the boo-boos. See, 1) the cane saved the day, and 2) always have superglue on hand.
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OMG!!! We just cant leave you alone, can we? I hope your knee behaves. I did once break my ankle on a rivercruise and didn’t do anything about it for ten days until i got home. I used a cane for months after it healed as i always got a seat on the bus. Have fun in India. Hugs.
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Ha! That’s a good tip about the cane. As someone who’s an incurable klutz… take care of yourself, Barb. Hugs.
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I mean the incurable klutz is me… Need more coffee.
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Love this. I believe that if you’re going to do something you have to go all in so I see this post not as confirmation of you being the worst wife ever as much as being the most true to you person ever. See what I did there, flipped the script.
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Hope you are on the mend now! I’m trying to convince Tome to get one of those canes with a seat attached for our next Europe trip, so he can sit down when we are standing in lines and such (and for unstable surfaces like cobblestones). I’ll have to tell him about the leaping-long-queues-in-a-single-limp super power of canes. :D
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I’m almost going to miss it when my knee is better. Almost…
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WordPress is still being weird with me. It won’t let me like things, but it will let me comment now, at least. So I am officially “liking” your response to my comment.
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Ah, once I logged in, it let me like it. Bleck to technology!
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WordPress is a mystery wrapped in an enigma…
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