Wednesday, June 20, 2007

It Runs in the Family

Over at Random Mindless Ramblings, H has commented that her klutz factor that seems to rear its ugly head at weddings. I don't need a special event to cause damage to my body. Any old ordinary day will do.

Last Monday I hurt my ring finger when installing the window air conditioner. I didn't realize it at first. Later my finger really, really hurt. Inspection revealed that the ring had cut my finger right at the base on the inside of my hand. Wow. Now I know why so many farmers are missing that particular finger and why my husband refused to wear a wedding band. My wedding band went on a chain around my neck. The finger still hurts.

But the house is cool. Well, it is COLD in the kitchen and really warm in Captain Crab's room, but hey, it evens out if you walk from one end of the house to the other.

This evening I was looking out the kitchen window and noticed that it was sprinkling, but only at the kitchen window. It is sunny and hot with nary a cloud in the sky. So I went outside to inspect the source of immaculate precipitation.

Outside my kitchen there is a big hunk of cement that used to be an entry stoop back in 1899. Now its just a big slab and a repository for shit that hides behind my house. Shit like a dog house for the yard dog that we had 10 years ago, the retractable clothes line that is broken but is going to get fixed, dammit, and my hillbilly grill.

I made the hillbilly grill out of cement blocks, bricks and the grates from a gas grill that fell apart after 3 seasons of use. It is not mortared together, but it works on the rare occassion I have enough foresight to start charcoal.

To inspect the source of the moisture I stood on one of the cement blocks on the slab. I deduced, but could not tell for sure, that the water was coming from the vent in the top of the window air conditioner. In an attempt to will the stoop closer to the air conditioner so I might inspect it better I tipped the cement block off the stoop. The block fell off the stoop and onto my leg before hitting the ground.

Ow (at first). Then -- fucking double shit ow.

No blood. Good.

Big ass dent on back of leg. Bad.

Walking is possible. Good.

Made it to house. Very good.

It took me a while to come out of my pain haze to realize I should do something sort of first-aid like. Then I remembered to apply cold. So that is what I'm doing. Sitting here with an ice pack tied to my leg. Hobbling is possible. Pictures of an ugly purple and green bruise to be posted in a few days is probable.



H said...

Hey, remember the time you fell down the basement steps at Grandma's?

pj said...

Ah, yes. It was much like your slip down the steps of the Opera House. And -- I didn't spill my beer! The resulting butt bruise was photographed. See, it runs in the family.