On Wednesday I was working on the band saw at work, and managed to put my finger a little close to the blade. It wasn’t a big cut, mainly because I’d actually turned the saw off before reaching for the piece of wood I was cutting*, so it was only running on momentum, but this didn’t stop the children in the workshop running about the farm shouting “Andy cut his finger off” at the top of their voices.

While the children made sure everyone knew what had, or rather hadn’t happened, I got a lift with the Farm Manager (who gets the “quote of the day” award for her response to my apology for getting Sawdust in her nice clean car: “Last time it was a dead goat, an injured carpenter is a step up…”).  We went to the local doctor’s surgery, which was closed, and trailed through the traffic for the best part of an hour to a surgery in the next town but one, where they looked at the cut and decided there was no bone or nerve damage, and all I needed was stitches. They then wrapped up my entire finger in the most dramatic bandage I’ve ever seen, which made it look like I had managed to remove a digit and the bandage was the only thing holding it on, and making sure I have the rest of the week off, because I can’t operate machinery or wear gloves.

Which means I have to stay at home & play with The Boys and Beautiful Daughter.

It’s tough, but I’ll survive.

*I’m dozy, but not that dozy…