Sunday, August 28, 2016

A Gold Bar and Two Injuries


Early yesterday morning, Olga and I walked to Fortune Green, and of course we didn't bring her Kong toy, because we never carry the Kong on our first walk of the day. Olga apparently forgot this tidbit of her routine, because when we got there she demanded (with loud repeated barking) THROW THE KONG THROW THE KONG THROW THE KONG!!! I kept holding my empty hands up, saying, "I don't have it!" But she wasn't taking no for an answer.

Fortunately, there's an apple tree at Fortune Green, and some apples had fallen on the ground. So I chucked an apple across the park and discovered that Olga, in a pinch, will chase vaguely ball-shaped pieces of fruit. She wouldn't bring them back to me, but that's fine. (Surprisingly she didn't eat them, either, even though she loves pieces of apple if I'm eating one. I guess it's all about imitating my modeled behavior!)


We also found a gold bar, left out quite generously for someone to take. Or, rather, a ceramic coin bank shaped like a gold bar. I did not take it.

For lunch, Dave and I went down to Charlton, in South London, where our friends Mike and Sally live. We met them, their adult daughter, and our coworker Anna -- who, coincidentally, moved in just a few doors away from Mike and Sally about two years back -- at The White Swan, a local pub. I had a salmon cake and drank very modestly.

Then we came home and, while cleaning up the garden, I managed to cut the tip of my left middle finger with a pair of rose clippers. (In England they're known as secateurs, and they're sharp as heck!) It was just carelessness on my part -- and I swear it had nothing to do with having a beer at the pub, because by this time it was two hours later -- but the cut was fairly deep and I briefly bled a scary amount. After washing my hands, I stanched the bleeding with pressure. Let me just testify that pressure really does work! It's amazing how quickly the blood stopped flowing.

Unfortunately it's affected the dexterity of my typing, but I'm managing. At least I can make do with just a Band-Aid -- or a "plaster," as the British hilariously call them -- and I don't need one of these:


That's Finnegan, the greyhound/lab mix who belongs to my Florida friends John and Sue. Poor Finnegan got nipped at doggy day care the other day and had to wear the "cone of shame," as Sue called it, to prevent him from licking his wound. (After she e-mailed me this picture, I told her, "It's more like a petunia of shame!")

(Top photo: In Charlton, yesterday.)

9 comments:

e said...

Man, you really find all kinds of stuff...poor dogs...imagine putting a cat in one of those collars, not a pretty thing...I was almost as bloodied as you were. I hope your cut heals quickly.

Yorkshire Pudding said...

"Very Modestly" is a strong beer. It is advisable not to use secateurs after downing several pints of "Very Modestly" in a rough South London pub. You could end up losing a finger or two.

P.S. "Band Aid" was a charity band established by Bob Geldof and Midge Ure in 1984.

Ms. Moon said...

I've done the same thing with pruning shears. And I was completely sober. It IS scary. For a second you wonder if you've cut off the tip of your finger. Or the whole damn thing!
Morning Glory Of Shame! Poor pup!

Marty Damon said...

And hold your hand over your heard to slow the bleeding. I think.. .
Finnegan looks about to spin away into a doggy ballet.

jenny_o said...

That bank is mighty shiny. How could someone lose something that big and new-looking?

Poor Finnegan, and poor you :( I hate cutting myself, even something so small as a paper cut. It makes my knees turn into water!

Red said...

Hey, I've said this many times, "sometimes our pets train us." I know because I was a victim of my daughter's dag.

ellen abbott said...

working with x-acto blade knives and glass for 40 years I sliced myself quite a few times.

Alphie Soup said...

Secateurs will prune just about anything, as long as the plants are within arm's reach. And the whole idea is to have them as sharp as possible and maybe even wear gardening gloves.

We used to have sticking plasters here but now we too have Band-aids. We also have Hoovers instead of vacuum cleaners. There should be a payment fee for advertising every time some-one opens their mouth and uses the brand name.
Yes, I know. In my dreams.
Alphie

Steve Reed said...

E: Yeah, my former cat Armenia required a cone for a while. Not a pretty experience!

YP: I should have known that Very Modestly was going to get me!

Ms Moon: That's exactly what I thought -- that I'd amputated the tip of my finger. Fortunately, things weren't that bad.

Marty: Head or heart? In any case, hold it up!

Jenny-O: I don't think they lost it so much as gave it away!

Red: And it's an ongoing process of training, isn't it?!

Ellen: I bet you have. Do you wear protective gloves?

Alphie: When I was a journalist we had to be careful not to put a brand name such as Band-Aid or Frisbee into a news story when we really meant a generic bandage or throwing disc. Problem is, no one calls them bandages or throwing discs. They call them, generically, Band-Aids and Frisbees. Common usage has appropriated the brand. So the story came out sounding stilted and weird.