State of Beans

 Well, here we are, a week after Easter.  Fully into the Resurrection portion of the whole arc of wonderment and salvation.

Easter went well.  We had a boneless leg of lamb with garlic pieces pushed into slits and covered with rosemary.  Why rosemary?  Because I couldn't use Texas Pete hot peppers, that's why.  Rosemary sucks, by the way.  More garlic, more pepper, no more Rosemary.

And, of course, cutting said roast I managed to do the unthinkable.

See, over Christmas I got a really nice carving knife, what used to be called a ham carving knife.  Like this one.

The One True Knife of Carving!

Yeah, it's a long thin sharp carving knife.  

Do you get a strong foreboding feeling yet?

So, of course, while carving the lamb roast I had a spastic moment and kind of flicked the knife towards me while dropping it.  

Lots of years of practice and life-fire with knives have taught me to jump away from sharp objects if they are falling.  Fortunately I've always been smart enough to not try to catch sharp blades.

Unfortunately the carving knife, the blade itself being over 12" long, was long enough to reach me after I jumped back.  So it shaved a bit off my right shin (skin only, but deep skin) and did the same to my right big toe.  

Blood and lamb grease was now flowing sluggishly from me.  Yehaw.  Soaped up the wounds up with Dawn and used Hydrogen Hydroxide to wash the soap and blood off, then went to Hydrogen Peroxide the wounds and then bandage them.

Dangit.  

Kind of a bummer during the meal to know that the ultra-sharp knife tried to kill me.  Dangit.

And then Tuesday I was building a platform to allow Mrs. Andrew to get into the van easier and dropped a 4 foot by 4 foot chunk of 3/4" plywood on the same right foot.  Of course.  And, of course I was wearing flip-flops.  Dangit.

Pride definitely wounded.  Foot definitely wounded.  

Then, Friday, Kegan the Dog came down with some bug so every 2-3 hours is a trip outside.  We're hoping that he'll stop soon.  Fortunately he's so well socialized that he refuses to poop or pee in the house.  As I write this, it's Sunday evening.  So I've been dealing with this for 2.5 days now.  Dangit.

He's got a vet appointment on Tuesday morning so hopefully he's plugged up by then.

Dangit.

Other than that, eh, still above the ground so there's that.  

By the way, personal mutilation via sharp objects is not something new.

I almost tagged my right femoral artery with an X-Acto knife while working on straps for my armor.  Operative word there was 'almost.'  Whew.  Did not need to go to the ER for that.  Barely.

I did shove a knife through, I really mean 'through,' my left pinky while trying to separate frozen burger patties.  Trip to the ER.  They sewed up the palm-side hole and pronounced me done.  I lifted up my still bleeding hand and asked, "What about the other side?  I told you I stuck a knife through my hand."  They were shocked, shocked I say, to find out I meant what I said.  Sewed that up and scheduled me for an arterial scan for the finger to check out if I'd done anything bad to the arteries.  That scan meant they shoved a probe/camera/alien up an artery in my groin through my heart into the left arm and down to the left pinkie finger.  Yes, I felt the thing go through my heart.  Very unsettling feeling that was.  Finger okay, no damage to tendons or blood vessels, just to my pride.  Got home, fixed the hamburgers.  Never bought frozen hamburger patties ever again.  And you know what?  There's no need to do that anyways as 93% lean ground beef, with a light sprinkling of salt and pepper, cooked in a thin layer of bacon grease produces a far superior burger. 

Stepped on pins and needles, of course.  Stepped on nails with and without shoes, of course.

But that carving knife? That thing's so sharp it's woodworking router scary.  Anyone who has a router for woodworking probably knows how I feel.  A spinning blade thingy that is spinning so fast it creates gyroscopic force, and will eat you dead before you feel it.  That sharp knife, did not feel it cut at all.  And, of course, blood flow being a great indicator of severity, as in 'if you've cut yourself but it isn't bleeding yet, oh, man, that's bad,' the wounds did take a bit of time to start bleeding.

Yeah.  Walking disaster I am.  

Still doing better than one of my friends, who was shooting at a steel target and the round bounced back and tagged him in the shoulder.  Don't ask me how, as the people involved said it was at a decent distance and the ammo was good.  Total freak accident.

Or the person I know who was doing a Scottish sword dance and one of the sword holders managed to tag her foot really well, like a to-and-through the foot right behind the toes.  Or the guy doing woodworking and managed to router his hand. 

So a surface skin shave, eh, barely registers as bad times.  Still sucks, dontchaknow.