|Fuzzy pic thanks to hubby who hates blood and pain.|
I laughed at my stupidity while he turned green watching from the corner.
Yes, that's real blood and that's what happens when you decide to slice your finger instead of a cucumber using a kitchen mandoline.
(Not to be confused with a mandolin, a stringed instrument that I guess you could pick up and play whilst cooking dinner).
Now I am going through my day looking like this:
|I'm not flipping you off; I'm just showing off my |
amazing bandage job, thanks to my hubby.
The nice big slice in my thumb a few weeks back thanks to a sharp kitchen knife and a clumsy chef. I managed to super glue it shut, but it took hours to stop the bleeding on my finger tip this time around (mostly because there was no skin left), so to the ER I had to go.
What's the moral of the story? I need to hire a sous chef. I need to avoid the kitchen. I need to pay better attention and not try to multitask while cooking.
The worst part? The cucumbers were actually fresh and crispy, which is many times a rare and miraculous occurrence in the produce wasteland known as the GTMO Commissary. They had to be dumped (with probably the end of my finger---I never did find it).
|Dark road + running off large shoulder=major sprain|
And ended up for several months like this:
So do I need a Halloween costume? Or do I just go as the world's clumsiest human being?
I just took my mummy finger and my almost-11 year old and celebrated his 4th anniversary of landing on this rock, and his 5th GTMO Halloween.
It was not a big day to celebrate because it was an exhausting weekend (big sale at the dive shop for the 2 big guys, a sleepover for the littlest guy, and an unplanned a 2+ hour long visit to the ER).
The last 3 years, we've managed to be part of a party of some sort or the other, with the kids venturing out in a large gang, Peanuts style, and the adults enjoying adult beverages and lots of laughs in our old neighborhood, Nob Hill.
This year Halloween fell on a Monday and started at 5. Many people weren't even home from work yet. Because of the weird rainy season we've had this year (a definite anomaly here), the neighborhoods are full of waist-high grass and tons of mosquitoes.
If you didn't recognize me as Clumsy Mom, you should know me as Anti-Zyka Mom. I actually hit a friend up for bug spray instead of candy when I rang her bell---this would be after I had already sprayed down once---because they were vicious.
With us in a new neighborhood, we didn't do our typical adult beverages, since I now have to drive across base to my home. Plus the whole Monday thing---not the best way to start a week.
It was rather low-key, with visits to some old friends and the realization that I really don't know many people here any more.
It was bittersweet going to our 4th Trunk or Treat when I realized that I only knew 2-3 people there. I feel so out of touch; I no longer have friends who are H's classmate's parents. It's sad, because I miss hanging out with the kids and having adult conversations at the same time. It wasn't a conscious choice I've made; people just come and go, and I have managed to stick to the same circle of friends the last year (or what's left of them), with none of the remaining ones having kids H's age anymore.
I work at distancing myself from work and keeping out of the fishbowl, but sometimes I need to dive back in. It's isolating and smothering at the same time. Keeping that balance, even after 4 full years, is a nebulous thing. I'm happiest reading a book in my house, but sometimes, especially in this tiny place, I need to venture out because I am realizing that while I was hibernating since school started, the base population has changed drastically.
That's the transient nature of living and working on an isolated base, and also the issues with being an introvert who would rather spend the weekend alone than out socializing. It's just another thing to work on while living here---how to get out of my comfort zone and work on being a social creature.