I'm walking on the edge of the Grand Canyon. Something distracts me. I turn. I fall. I wake up.

I'm leaping from one flat rock to the next. The rock vanishes. I fall. I wake up.

I'm walking on the grass near the edge of the Grand Canyon. I slip. I fall. I wake up.

And so on.

This was the second night at the Grand Canyon last week after I tried to color correct my scalp and face. Actually, two causes for these nightmares were in effect. Oooch.

I'm afraid of heights. And so is 75% of the rest of the tourists that visit the Grand Canyon. "I thought the whole thing would be fenced off," one man told me. "I'm completely petrified," his son added. Sam and I eventually agreed that whenever he had the urge to walk to the edge, he would tell me and I would face away. Then when he moved away from the edge he'd tell me and I could look at him (or the canyon) again. I can usually sort of stand at the edge of a cliff; I just can't look out. When I look out at the miles-long view, I project myself out to the center and imagine myself falling. And falling. And landing. Maybe I've watched too many Roadrunner cartoons.

Adding to my enjoyment were the parents who thought it would be a great idea to take their 4-7 year-olds to the Grand Canyon for Spring Break. It just isn't and you know why so I'm not even going to bother reliving the moments of horror and dismay. And the whines of the disappointment. And the stubborn screams. And the bored tears.

We arrived at the Grand Canyon at 12:15 p.m. via the Grand Canyon Railway. We had a delightful time on the old train. Sam loves trains. We had one of those cynical, funny and helpful hosts who shared with us her idea of the most quiet spot on the rim of the canyon and she was right. Our hike to that spot added immensely to an already wonderful trip. We'll be sure to show you the 300+ photos.

Anyway, we couldn't check into our lodge until 4:00 p.m., so we hiked and strolled about until then. When we got to our room, I noticed that I had the strangest sunburn ("color" Sam calls it) on my neck, face and lower part of my head. Well, I couldn't have that, so I removed my baseball hat the next day and burnt the rest of my skull to the color of a skull that shouldn't be that color. By Friday, my face was falling off and even now I'm wearing a hat to keep people from staring at the tragedy that was once my head.

That evening I had a fever and the feverish nightmares. As I'd enter and leave consciousness I'd watch this documentary about a dance company that was repelling off the side of a waterfall cliff in Yosemite National Park in the name of the Dance. Ooooohhhhhh.

Anyway, that's one of the things I did on my Spring vacation.