Monday, November 22, 2021

Nothing Left To Say, So I'm Giving You The Finger

The Mansion is as dull as a 1960s western. Nothing going on. Farmer H TRIED to lecture me and The Pony on the orientation of the kitchen bar at Pony House, but we waved off his efforts to control our minds with the same repeated phrase at increasing decibels, and pooh-poohed his efforts. Right now we're in a holding pattern until Thanksgiving. Actually, until Wednesday, when I spend all day in the kitchen.

So... here's evidence of my mailbox injury last week:

 
You may think that's just a scratch. How dare you belittle my nearly-severed finger! It's a GOUGE! A chunk of my flesh is gone!

 
It's starting to swell! Starting to bruise! It hurts like the dickens! Requires a bandaid and some triple antibiotic ointment, and to be kept out of the dishwater!

Well. You might be surprised to learn that I survived. Three days later, and I'm on the mend.

 
Still got a little hole in my finger, but no bandaid required. Dishwater soak is barely painful. Only a direct bump to that area makes it hurt. I even got the mail on Sunday without incident. 

Do you see something wrong with that last sentence? I got the mail on SUNDAY. It must have been delivered really late on Saturday. I checked EmBee around 5:00 when I came home from town. Dry as a bone, bare as Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard.

I'll be keeping my badfinger to myself for a while. Unless another calamity befalls it.

2 comments:

  1. That certainly looks like a gouge to me, and I'm happy to see it is getting better. 1960s westerns weren't all boring, I still watch some of them now.

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  2. River,
    My badfinger IS on the mend. I'll be able to use it freely any day now!

    I'm just not a western fan. All the men look alike, especially in black and white. My favorite western is True Grit, the original version (1969) with John Wayne and Glen Campbell and Kim Darby and Robert Duvall and Strother Martin (the cynical horse-trader guy). The acting isn't great, but the casting was!

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