What made me happy today?

[Rigor Mortis]

When my son was about 10 years old, he stepped on a plank out the back and a rusty nail went through the sole of his shoes, making a very slight puncture wound. It wasn't severe and he'd had a tetanus from a similar escapade, so we didn't worry too much. Boys of that age, though, like the attention of a virile injury, so he borrowed a set of crutches from my niece and insisted on using them to get around for over a week, such was the extreme ordeal of placing his foot on the ground. It was August, nice weather, so we took ourselves off to Dublin for the horse show in the RDS. Ice cream warm weather.

At one point, we waited on the poor invalid to catch up, watching him as he stood leaning on the crutches with chocolate ice cream staining his face and once white t-shirt while sucking on his ventolin inhaler. If we'd put a can in front of him, he'd have made a fortune. I'd probably have offered a donation myself.

In a similar vein, maybe a year or two older, my daughter ran into something sharp out playing, splitting her knee in a wide gash that, as I recall it, exposed patella underneath. She crouched over it, asked if it was bad and suggested a bandage. If we didn't have one handy, she suggested closing it over with sellotape.

 

[Homer Potvin]

When I was about 10, I attempted to kickflip my skateboard into my hand like Marty McFly in Back to the Future. It hit me flush in the nuts and I collapsed in the driveway screaming. My dad witnessed the whole thing and nearly collapsed next to me in laughter. I'm assuming he checked first to make sure I wasn't going to die, but he might not have.

 

[TrevorD]

Literally, the minute I got home from taking my anesthesia boards (years ago, many years ago), I walked in the door and stepped on a rusty nail. Loved it and would recommend it to everyone!

 

[TrevorD]

When I was about 10, I attempted to kickflip my skateboard into my hand like Marty McFly in Back to the Future. It hit me flush in the nuts and I collapsed in the driveway screaming. My dad witnessed the whole thing and nearly collapsed next to me in laughter. I'm assuming he checked first to make sure I wasn't going to die, but he might not have.

A little nostalgia for you..

 

[Homer Potvin]

A little nostalgia for you..

That taint funny! Bonus points for Busta, though.

 

[CatrionaGrace]

That taint funny!

Well, maybe a wee bit funny...

 

[Dogberry's Watch]

Every now and then a book is able to get me to gasp because I didn't see the twist coming. The book I'm currently reading, while full of unpronounceable names and places, has been such a great time. I'm about halfway through it, and I hope it continues to be a good time.

 

[Rath Darkblade]

Which book is it, Dogberry's Watch?

And since everyone is discussing injuries, I'll kick in my $0.02. When I was maybe ... five and a bit? ... I really, really wanted to help mum in the kitchen. (This was early 80s, so think 80s cartoons like Transformers, and then imagine how a kitchen, full of busyness, sharp shiny things and naked flames, would excite a boy with way too much imagination!)

Anyway, when my mum's back was turned, I grabbed a knife and tried helping by cutting a carrot. (What? I was five).

Unfortunately, I started by cutting it lengthwise, and it being the first time I cut anything, didn't know how, and the blade ended up slipping and stabbing deeply into a knuckle on one of my index fingers.

To cut a long story short (too late), cue a scene of indescribable mayhem. But lots of blood, screaming, panic, and a visit to the ER later, I had a visible scar ... and I still have it today, a pale but lasting reminder of how not to make dinner. =P

Of course, I'm much older and much stronger than I was then. I've been cooking just fine for decades now. But every so often I look at that scar and smile wryly at the memory of what an adorkable klutz I was.

 

[Tallyfire]

A great-great(-great?) aunt of mine wrote a journal where she chronicled the life of her and her family up until about 1950. I’d always been interested in reading what she wrote and a few days ago I found the scans I’d done of the first few pages when I’d considered typing it up for fun. Unfortunately, the handwriting takes a while to parse, especially where the scanner/printer had a bad day. I handed one of the worst pages over to ChatGPT to transcribe to text and it returned some very good text.

 

[Brandon S. Pilcher]

I've finished the first draft of my next novella, "Yandi and the Fire Mountain" (originally titled "The Bride of Fire"). After a few days' break, I'll start the revision process. I hope to have the thing ready for publication before the end of the year!

 

[hirundine]

Oh, if we're talking injury stories, I've got one (I may or may not have posted on the old board when it happened)... Last year i accidentally sliced a chunk of flesh off the tip of one of my fingers. I swore a bunch of times, rinsed it off (that was probably the most painful bit if I'm honest), wrapped it in a clean hankie (I had a couple fresh out of the drier), and waited a little while to see if it stopped bleeding (the first aid videos recommend this). It didn't, and i was home alone, so I had to get myself to A&E... on the bus. Two buses actually. And I had to walk half a mile (with my hand elevated because it was still bleeding at this point), because I just missed the bus at my nearest stop and it could have been anything up to half an hour before the next one. The wound was too wide to be stitched, so all they could really do was stick a dressing on it for 10 days and then just ordinary sticky plasters until the wound fully closed, which was about 2 1/2 weeks after I injured it. Went on holiday with a dressing that I absolutely could not get wet... we went to the lake district. When i got back to work I found out that my supervisor had been somewhat dramatic about it, causing some people to think the injury was much worse that it was. I on the other hand was so UN-dramatic about it that they questioned whether I understood what I'd actually done.

 

[hirundine]

As an Iceland fan who hates Aston Villa and is also a goalkeeper, this tale of redemption made me very happy:

 

[CatrionaGrace]

My most spectacular injuries involved horses. 'Nough said about that.

 

[Louanne Learning]

I've never had a broken bone, but one time as a little girl I shredded the bottom of my foot on the pebble-dash of our house.

 

[CatrionaGrace]

May I suggest you continue to avoid broken bones? They hurt.

 

[Rath Darkblade]

As an Iceland fan who hates Aston Villa and is also a goalkeeper, this tale of redemption made me very happy:

As a former goalkeeper (and also one who saved penalties, and coincidentally also scored a couple of goals), I absolutely understand the elation.

May I suggest you continue to avoid broken bones? They hurt.

Agreed about broken bones. When I was younger and stupider, I played goalkeeper for many years (both in indoor and outdoor Association Football aka soccer), and I can't begin to count how many short-term and long-term injuries I had: bruised ribs, elbows in the face, accidental kicks in the groin, and even concussion once. But I count myself lucky, because one of my fellow goalies once saved the goal but was tackled recklessly, which broke his leg.

He was out for a whole year. Nice guy, too.

I retired from the game a few years ago. I still play it socially now and then (especially indoor), but injuries wear you down.

 

[GrahamLewis]

Happy in a reflective sort of way.

I picked the final cucumber of the season this morning (unless one lies hidden 'neath the detritus that lies (or lays[?]) on the garden floor). Not so long ago we planted the seeds in a barren-seeming plot, and without much help or prodding from us the vines poked through and worked their way around, some up the chain-link fence, some even through it to hang on our neighbors' side, like this one. Rains and sun rolled round, and the earth did its magic. Now that season is ending, the vines are yellowed, the leaves torn and tattered. In the next few weeks I'll be gathering those and piling them up for the city to add to its massive composter. Gathering too the tomato cages and trellises, in anticipation and hope of a traditional winter.

Happy to have been granted this summer, and grateful for it all.

 

[GrahamLewis]

Watching the bird feeder outside my kitchen window, as morning sun bursts through after a thunderstorm. Mother and juvenile cardinal were there; even though the kid (can't tell the sex at this age, a male won't get red until later) is as big as mother, the kid keeps chirping and shuddering, begging for food, and mother patiently feeds it. A couple finches were eating from the other side of the feeder; another finch was busy in the nearby hanging birdbath. On the ground a couple sparrows were picking through the trickle-down seeds, and a chipmunk worked around the edges.

A pleasant reminder that life goes on without me.

 

[Catrin Lewis]

My Mac Mini, ordered to replace my ten year old iMac, has transited from "processing" to "preparing to ship."

For less than my iMac cost ten years ago I'm getting more storage, more memory, and wildly better performance.

I got a nice display for it and I also found a portable display. Think something like an oversize iPad with a folio cover/kickstand.

Of course, then I had to order a zipper travel case for the Mini.

A case the size of a slightly stretched school lunch kit will carry the Mini, a docking station/SSD, keyboard, cables, and trackpad.

I know, I know. That's what laptops are for. I can't quite explain why, but I can't wait to haul my Mini along on a writing retreat.

There's one serious gap in my plans. I don't know what to name the new Mini. I'm thinking Paladin, as in have Mini, will travel. Or Nitre, to go along with my favorite screen name. ParagraphZeppelin? Ottmar, after Mr. Mergenthaler who invented the Linotype?

I thought Flyleaf might be good, but I might forget to zip my files.

A week until it's due. I've got to do better with the naming.

"Paladin, Palidin, where do you roam?
Paladin, Paladin, far, far from home . . . "

 

[Raven]

We've been out of water for almost a week. Today the borehole company came and drilled down to 80m. We were worried for a while, since they drilled quite deep and just found rock and dust, but when the water started spraying it was smiles all around.

While they were still busy I asked the foreman if they had a geological survey map of some kind to help in finding the water, since I expected some scientific comfort in this expensive endeavour. You know, something talking about layers or strata or some such. Something convincing with numbers and lines and... topography. He put out his cigarette, smiled, and produced a chicken egg from his pocket.

"It stands up in your palm if you walk over water," he said confidently in a heavy Afrikaans accent, strutting and demonstrating the method.

Sometimes the world still works on magic just fine, if you let it. Or maybe it was science, somehow? These days I'm just along for the ride, and I'm smiling again for a change.