Gross

As requested, here are a few pictures of my finger. I thought they were a little to gross to have them just pop up when you open my blog. So click the links if you want to see them.

For the real finger pics click HERE, and HERE, and HERE.

...the picture of my cat I just threw in because I could.

Let me give y'all the finger... update

Thanks everybody for all the concern. It's much appreciated.

I saw the hand doctor yesterday. I walked in with an impressive bandage and splint on my finger The Wife had fixed for me. There was also an impressive amount of blood for a four day old wound. The bright red skin where my nail use to be was very impressive in contrast to the black skin on the bottom tip of my finger. The x-ray showed an impressive amount of smashed bone as well. The doctor, however, was less than impressed.

He gave my finger a quick glance and then spent five minutes lecturing me about the importance of taking antibiotics with an open fracture wound. Then he casually mentioned the nerve damage was permanent, as was the loss of my nail. Nothing can be done.

In the end I walked out of his office with two unimpressive band-aids on my finger and feeling damn near embarrassed. But, I satisfied my family and friend's request to see a doctor and now I can do what I wanted to from the beginning, suck it up and get back to it. After all, it's just a finger... I have plenty.

Living up to expectations, a broken promise.... damn

As a child I was what people called accident prone. Not because I did things to hurt myself but because I always managed to get hurt. No lie, I once had to get twelve stitches from pillow fighting. While it was rarely my fault, I got a reputation with my family for it. So much so my aunts wouldn't let me spend the night at their houses because "something" might happen.

Also as a child I loved heights and because I did, one of my biggest disappointments was the tree house my dad promised to build but never did. I made the same promise to my son last year and this three day weekend was as good a time as any to make good on that promise.

The weather was perfect and since I love working with wood and my hands, I have to admit I was in heaven. Twelve feet above the ground, swinging a hammer, in the trees, with a nice breeze blowing and a spectacular view of the pond, I was a happy man.

I finished most of the hard part by the second day. I promised my middle son he would be walking in the trees by the end of the day. He was anxious but patient. I needed one more support beam before climbing on top and laying the floor. As I placed the beam I dropped a screw. I climbed down the ladder to get it. As I placed my hand on the ladder to climb back up, the ladder shifted. I hardly noticed because my feet were still on the ground. Unfortunately, the drill I left on top of the ladder slid off. It had to be a one in a million shot. It landed on my ring finger. The only part of me touching the ladder.

When I looked down at my finger it appeared as if the drill had all but snapped off the tip of it. It didn't. It did however pulverize it into something that looks like hamburger meat. I won't go into the details about the horrible experience in the emergency room, lets just say with the care I received, after bleeding for three hours in the waiting room, I passed on the doctors suggestion that I be admitted for an open fracture wound for several days.

So now I'm home and things couldn't be more opposite than a second before the drill fell. My promise to Ethan is broken and will not be fulfilled for sometime. While it is just a finger, it happens to be on my right hand, and of course I'm right handed. The Wife also had the doctor explain to me the dangers of gangrene with an open fracture wound. So I'm stuck inside looking out the window at my unfulfilled promise. That is in between all the phone calls. The calls are from my family and friends checking on me and reminding me how they can still remember how accident prone I use to be as a child and apparently still am.

Tomorrow, with any luck, I'll be going to see a hand specialist who will hopefully do something with this damn finger. This whole situation is ridiculous. One finger has brought my life to a screeching ass halt. damn.

Living Dangerously

I decided to get a bowl of ice cream the other night. I asked The Wife if she wanted some. She informed me there was no ice cream to be had. So much to her surprise, I pulled out a gallon from the back of the freezer.

The Wife: Oh, that is very, very old. You can't eat that. It will make you sick.

Me: How old?

The Wife: Old enough. I can't remember the last time I bought ice cream.

I really really wanted some Ice cream. WHAT TO DO????

I ate it of course. I was just careful to scoop it from the middle (I have no idea why I thought that would make any difference). Then I spent all night wondering about every little rumble in my stomach.

Yep, I'm a crazy wild man. I live right on the edge.

Odd Man Out

I have the pleasure of lifting with two great guys three nights a week. Although I've been working out with these guys for years I hardly ever forget that they were partners long before they met me. One day they asked for some advice about working legs, I invited them to join me for a few sets and we've been lifting together ever since.

In the beginning they both just let me run the work-outs. I had more experience and seemed to be more motivated. This worked out well for awhile then I noticed one partner, P1, seemed to get irritated with me at times. Nothing harsh, just little comments to let me know he wasn't pleased we always did things my way. So I backed off to let them take charge, only to be confronted by my other partner, P2, about why we're doing odd or lame work-outs. You see, P1 doesn't really know what to do, he just wants to have input, where as P2 doesn't care who's in charge, he just wants the results.

So over the years I've worked hard to make sure P1 is included in decisions. Still, no matter how hard I try I can't get this issue behind us.

Example:

P2: Can we do extra legs tonight?
Me: Fine by me, what do you think P1?
P1: Huh, surprised you even asked. I was thinking of trying this new exercise?
P2: That's for your back. We're not doing back tonight.
Me: Let's try it tomorrow night.
P1: Whatever. (as he rolls his eyes)

Example two:

Me: Didn't you want to try a new exercise tonight P1?
P1: I'm surprised you even heard me. (sarcasm)
Me: Huh?
P2: I heard that exercise isn't any good.
Me: Lets give it a try and see.
P1: Gee, thanks for letting us. (dripping with sarcasm)

I still try, but for the most part I just wrote it off to the fact there are some people in this world you just irritate (some of us have a better knack for it than others) no matter how hard you try not to.

Then, I skipped the gym last Monday night. I sent both of them an email to let them know. When I arrived at the gym Tuesday P2 was a no show. P1 informed me that P2 had come early Monday and had almost finished his work-out before our scheduled time. Worse, he left P1 after only 10 minutes of working-out. When I wondered out loud why he would do this, P1 said, "Because, he knew you weren't going to be here."

Then it became crystal clear. P1 is irritated with me because P2 seems to be only interested in working out with me. P1 is feeling like the odd man out. It doesn't really solve anything but at least I know where it's coming from. And, on a selfish note, I'm happy it's not me this time.

Confession #2

Sometimes when spell check doesn't find a misspelled word I change one just to see if it's working.

I got loaded last night

Because I live near my parents and they still work a few days a week at the family business, it's not uncommon for them to have an employee place something in the back of my truck for me to carry home for them, without informing me of course.

This irritates me to no end.

Sometimes I pretend I don't see it and ride around with it for days. When they ask where their stuff is, I just say, "Really, since Tuesday? Huh, nobody told me." Childish I know, but for some reason it makes me feel better.

I only mention this because last night when I left work there was a spool of rope in the back of my truck. Rope big enough to tie up the fn' titanic. My truck was almost popping a wheelie under the weight, seriously. It was apparently loaded with a forklift.

We have no forklifts at my parents house. Three guesses how it got unloaded? The first two don't count. grrrrr-er!

Happy Mother's Day

to all the mothers of the world

Enjoy your day, you've earned it!

What Will Happen?

The dreaded "W" word came up the other day. I've never been afraid of it but for some reason I just can't get off my ass and wrestle with it.

My insurance agent (same age as me and looks twice as old, sCA-ry) strongly suggested that I make out a will. Yikes and, well, yikes!!! His suggestion was delivered with one of those half cocked eyebrow things that seem to say, "Hey, what are you stupid or something?" His look was so convincing that I'm actually considering doing it.

So I need a list (always start with a list)

1. I need to make a list of all my possessions (easy enough)




2. I need to make a list of who I'm leaving them to. (again... easy)




3. I need to figure out who would take care of my children if something should happen to The wife and I...
   

Bam! I just remembered why I've never made out a will. I have nobody in my life I trust to raise my children. So stop cocking that eye at me Mr. Insurance agent man, I'm working on it.

Gah!

Growth

When each of my children were born I planted a tree on our property to mark the occasion. With Ethan it was a willow tree right next to the kitchen window. I didn't realize it at the time but I had planted the willow right next to our septic tank.

Amazingly in just over three short years the tree grew as tall as our house. I had to trim the bottom branches so that we could see under it from the kitchen window. In a short amount of time, due to the extra nutrients it was getting from the septic tank, it became one of our favorite trees. It provided some much needed shade. I loved to watch it's long lanky limbs blowing in the wind. It had a very majestic appeal to it. It was a beautiful tree.

Then, suddenly it died. All the leaves fell off, it turned brittle and dried up. Apparently some type of beetle burrowed into it's trunk and killed it.

The moral of this story: You can't suck shit for too long before something bad crawls up your ass and kills you.

Confession

When I'm clearing brush at home with my machete (I love that word machete... machete, machete, maacheeetee) I sometimes pretend I'm a contestant on the show Survivor.

Then I vote all the dumb ass people out of my life.

Old & Dumb? Not!

Feeling my age...not!

For the past week I have been feeling a little bit more run down than normal. I just attributed it to getting older.

Then I went to make a pot of coffee at work. I noticed there was only decaffeinated coffee.

"Where's the loaded coffee," I yelled.

"We're out. We've been out for a week. We've been making the decaf stuff and you didn't even notice." someone yelled back laughing.

That explains it. I'm not getting old, they're just sneaky bastards.



Stupid is as stupid does

Yesterday morning I opened a bottle I was pretty sure contained chlorine tablets but the label had fallen off. I looked down into the bottle for a second and it looked like chlorine tablets. Even though it couldn't have been anything other than chlorine tablets I decided to take a sniff.

After throwing up and seriously wondering if my throat was going to close up and I would require a tracheotomy to breath, I managed to get back into the house. As I stood over the sink hacking up my chlorine gas filled lungs. The Wife walked in.

What's wrong?

I sniffed *cough* some *hack* chlorine. *cough*

Well that was just stupid.

I had a doozy of a comeback but I couldn't get it out before she left the room. How dare her call me stupid!



Although, it really was stupid.