In which I blow my opportunity to get a real pirate hook

I lost my balance on a short ladder the other day, and grabbed at the barn frame to "save" myself from falling.

Ugh.  That's a sharp edge!  I applied a compression bandage and drove myself to the doc for a couple of stitches.

(I went unwillingly, of course.  You expected something else?  But Jim pointed out that I couldn't remember when I got my last tetanus shot, so off I went, grumbling and cussing all the way).

Jim met me at the doc's office to hold my (other) hand and take photos. 

He also got some video footage of the stitching...but since that soundtrack includes some very amusing girl-conversation comparing tattoos, I will spare my gentle readers.  However, the doc's advice on tattoo placement is very good.  Ladies: do NOT get a rose over your heart on your 20th birthday unless you want the rose to be "long-stemmed" by your 50th birthday.

The doc said she'd give me a PIRATE'S HOOK instead of a finger splint if I didn't swear through the entire process.

Damn, that didn't work.  I got a splint.   Damn.

(a hook would be a lot more useful!)

Some swelling from the wound trauma, and weird-looking bumps on my skin, courtesy of the textured vetwrap.

We went to see Patty and the laser, of course. 

The machine has different settings for "swelling reduction" and "antibiotic" and "wound".  Patty kept flipping switches and twirling dials, and I used 'em all! 

Then, back to the barn to paint the walls.   Our plywood walls need to be primered + painted before they are put in place...and now that we have a roof, there's a dry spot to do that work. 

Unfortunately, thanks to recurring wind squalls, it hasn't been warm enough for the paint to cure.  Jim procured a turbo heater, we set up tarp-walls on the barn frame, and set to work in our little blue cocoon.

We sorted out the boards we needed, and started painting.  And painting.  And painting.  The primer has an anti-mildew agent in it because we live in (you know it) the Swamp. 

EVERYTHING gets coated in KILLZ around here.  Sometimes I feel like I should bathe in the stuff.

Lisa's friend Aom came to visit, and as we always do with guests we immediately put her to work. 

The girls did a great job with the paint, and Willy was kept busy all afternoon shuttling boards into the right locations, and Jim and I did a lot of everything, including keeping the tarps from sailing away in the gusty winds...and cussing at them when they tried to sail away with us in tow!

Coming soon to a barn near here:  walls.

At least, I hope  they're coming soon!  Stay tuned!

Here's a joke that a storytelling friend sent, in honor of the hook I didn't get:

A pirate walked into a bar and the bartender said, "Hey, I haven't seen you in a while. What happened? You look terrible!"

"What do you mean?" said the pirate, "I feel fine!"


"What about the wooden leg? You didn't have that before."
"Well, we were in a battle, and I got hit with a cannonball, but I'm fine now".


"OK, but what about that hook? What happened to your hand???"

"We were in another battle. I boarded a ship and got into a swordfight. My hand was cut off, and I got fitted with this hook. But I'm fine, really."


"What about that eyepatch? How did you lose your eye?"


"Oh, one day at sea a flock of birds flew over. I looked up, and one of them shit in my eye."

"You're kidding," said the bartender, "you can lose an eye just from a little birdshit?"


"Yeah, well, it was my first day with the hook...."