Until it wasn’t.
Vikki had come over to help me repair my garden shed, which had several rotting sections. We had a great time at Lowe’s with Steve and his helper, Super Steve, and despite their doubts, fit all the lumber into my PT Cruiser and arrived safely home.
We built new doors and painted them blue to match my hammock chair.
We painted the new trim . . . then it was time for demo.
The first board came down abruptly, but we managed to avoid injury. Not so the second board—a 10 foot long 2×4, btw—which bounced off my finger, leaving a laceration in its wake. I know it was a laceration because that’s what it said on the paperwork they gave me after I got 3 stitches at the Emergency Room. Craig Ranch Hospital, btw, lovely people.
I’ll spare you the gory pics…and there are some. But I left with my finger in a splint, which made typing problematic. That, coupled with a week of Brahms Requiem, explains my recent lack of posts. But they’ve been piling up in my head and I intend to unleash them in the days to come.
Especially after today’s adventure, which did not involve bloodshed, but did get me up close and personal with an honest-to-goodness Iron Chef. But that’s a story for another day.