Ouch

I sliced my thumb while preparing my dinner. I refuse to elaborate on the exact cause of the wound, as anything I say may be used to convict me on grounds of stupidity. Of course, since I already admitted I did it to myself- no one jumped out at me with a knife- stupidity is the only possible conclusion anyway, but still...

It was pretty gory. A very small area on the surface, but definitely deeper than I would generally prefer.

brief interesting aside: I've noticed that injuries up to a certain level cause me to cuss, but once they pass that level I generally just say 'yow!' (rhymes with 'cow'), accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. I'd be interested to know exactly where the threshold is, but I don't care to experiment.

I ran some water over my thumb and was surprised and impressed by the volume and rapidity of blood loss. Then I went to the bathroom sink, under which I keep some bandages. I ran some more water on it, examined it again, ran some more water, examined it again, and kept repeating the process until I realized I just kept bleeding everywhere.

I suspected I might need more than a tiny bandage, so I went in search of my first aid kit. I believed it to be located on a bookshelf near the kitchen. It was, and I found it after shuffling some things around.

So I returned to the bathroom, first aid kit in hand. I fumbled around with it a little trying to open the two thumb latches with one thumb and one pinkie (awkward), rooted around and finally found some gauze and some sterile wipes.

Then I cleaned the thumb a little better and wrapped a little gauze around it. Then a couple of bandages to hold the gauze in place. Actually, the first two bandages I grabbed had to be thrown out, because I got so much blood on them before I even opened them that the little wrappers got soggy and I couldn't open them. But I eventually managed to extract two intact. Finally, my thumb was adequately dressed and all was quiet.
Then I looked around and realized there was blood in the sink, on the counter, in the bathtub, on a towel, soaking a washcloth, on the floor, and on the carpet. Following the blood trail backwards, I found blood drops on and around the bookshelf, the kitchen floor, the kitchen counter, and all the dirty dishes in the sink.
But the Italian sausage I was browning was okay, because during my first return in search of the first aid kit I remembered to turn the heat down.

And my minestroni was delicious!

More this and that...

I'm not exactly an ultra-high-tech, wired-in (or rather 'wireless'- see how low-tech I am?) kind of guy, so unlike most citizens of the 21st century I don't update my Facebook status from anywhere at any time. Thus I frequently think of a really funny status I can use, and then by the time I get home I forget what it was.

I thought of a great one this morning. But 12 hours later when I'm here at my computer, I now have no idea what it was. Sometimes I remember a shred of it, try to work with that, and end up with something much less funny. For instance, last week I thought of a good one. "Kevin gave conflict diamonds to Naomi Campbell, and all he got was this lousy tee shirt."
Then when I got home I remembered diamonds, but had no idea what the rest of it was and ended up posting something I liked a lot less. Then I remembered the first one a few hours later.
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I'm proud of the dish I brought to the pool party a couple weeks ago. I made a watermelon and feta salad. I used spring mix, onions, watermelon (I even bought a melon baller so it looked great), feta cheese, some pepper, oil, and vinegar. It was fantastic! Quite delicious. It definitely enters my rotation of dishes to bring to events to which I must bring a dish.
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Interesting sense memory: A lady walked by my desk today and smelled strongly of some hand lotion or something similar. It was a very familiar smell, and after a few moments I realized she smelled just like Dot. Odd that I can be so sure of that after 20 years, but I am.
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Last Wednesday in the tournament I benched myself. For the first time in 15 years as a Yogi I thought our best lineup did not include me.
Then the next night at St. Helen's we were short-handed and I ended up playing a very good 2nd base. Then tonight we were extremely, extremely short-handed and I played a very good shortstop. We lost both games, but I played well.
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How did I live in Lubbock and never hear about the Lubbock Lights of 1951? I just heard about it recently, checked into it, and am fascinated. There is apparently no definite conclusion as to what the UFOs were, but the most common belief seems to be birds- most likely plovers- reflecting the city's then-new street lights.
Seems reasonable, but then why were there no more sightings in later years?

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Oh, and one more neat thing. I caught a skink in the hallway at work yesterday and carried it back outside to the courtyard. Pretty cool.

"I see a ladybug, hello lady ladybug..."

A this and that update:

Yogi's lost the final of the massive 4 team St. I's tournament, the Sunday team finished 2nd in the tournament, and we play at 7:15 in the loser's bracket final Wednesday. If we win we have to win two more in a row.
Fall league started tonight. If we manage to play 3 games Wednesday, then after Thursday I will have had 12 games in 12 days.

I carried my team (okay, Brian helped) to a scramble win Sunday at Charlie Vettiner GC. I haven't received our payoff yet, but Brian and I both have some money coming for the win, and we each won an extra. Mine was closest to the pin on 17, and Brian had his name on everything else, so I'm not sure which one held up. I'm guessing long drive.

The Yogi pool party was Saturday, golf scramble Sunday, and I played two softball games Sunday night. I don't mind admitting it was a very hot weekend to be outdoors for 20 hours, even just playing cornhole, golf, and softball. It wore me out.

I guess I ran out of 'this and that' fairly quickly. I haven't been doing much else.

Sure, buying Newsweek for one dollar seems like a great deal. But they'll be pestering him to renew within a couple of months.

Hot, Hot, Hot!

(I Googled "hot, hot, hot" for an image to go with this post. The options presented were fun to look at, but not exactly apropos.)

How do you make an incredibly hot late afternoon double-header even worse? Play two extra innings the first game.

We lost in nine innings, then won the second game fairly easily.

We were visitors the first game. I hate to admit this, but each time we took the field in the 7th, 8th, and 9th innings I was hoping the other team would end the game one way or the other, and I didn't really care how. I wanted them to either win it or lose it, I didn't care which- as long as they didn't just tie it up again so we had to play another inning.

Oh yeah, almost forgot- 7:00 Tuesday, and Wednesday is the first tournament game at 6:15.

As this is the fiftieth anniversary of "To Kill A Mockingbird," all the NPR hosts have been doing special segments. I've enjoyed each one. It's one of my favorite books, and definitely my favorite book/movie combo.

The three call-in shows I've heard discussing "Mockingbird" have each had at least one caller air a grievance about how poor white southerners were portrayed.

I didn't have an issue with this at first, but the more I think about it the more I believe they have a point. I've led myself to see a problem which I can't seem to resolve satisfactorily- though it will in no way decrease my enjoyment of "To Kill A Mockingbird." It's still fantastic.

Anyway, here's the problem.
In going through all the main characters in my head, it seems that every single influential person in town was on the 'enlightened' side:
*Atticus, the lawyer and state representative, certainly had to have some power in town.
*Virtually all of his near neighbors seemed to be in Atticus' camp, and I have to assume, since he was one of the more successful people around, that he lived in the same part of town as other successful people. That's the way it works everywhere else, anyway.
*The judge was on his side, too.
*The sheriff, too.
*The newspaper publisher, too.

I would think that in a Depression-era small southern town, that list basically includes the majority of the power.

So I have to conclude that the radio callers have a valid point. The book seems to indicate that racism persisted because the wealthy, educated, successful people were powerless against the rabble.

I find it hard to believe.

Still a darned good book, though. It just works better as entertaining, moving fiction than as a sociological study.

Here's Something I Learned Today...

..but I'm not going to share.

Many days ago I heard mention of thermobaric weapons on some talk radio show. I think maybe it was "Fresh Air."
I had a very rough idea of what thermobaric weapons are- I mean, I knew roughly how destructive they are but I didn't really know how they worked, so I made a mental note to look it up.
I finally got around to it this evening and I now wish I hadn't.



Sometimes I think humans really stink. If not for great stuff like Hamlet, Elvis, and onion rings I'd think we are a lost cause.