While packing our stuff into our “new” trailer, Diane discovered that the utensil holder thing was too big for the drawer. Therefore, I was commissioned to create dividers with some of the spare wood I have lying around in the basement. To do that required the use of a saw. Even though I had tons of wood of varying size I couldn’t find five pieces of the proper length.
Considering my last encounter with my table saw (1/8″ kerf in my left forefinger that required 6 stitches to close) I’m sure you can imagine my concern about testing my dexterity again.
For this project I chose 1/2″ wood which is handy because most of my fingers are more than 1/2″ thick lessening the possibility of cutting one of them clean off. Also, I only raise the blade enough to clear the piece I’m cutting which makes it even better because there’s only 1/8″ or so sticking above the wood. The worst that could happen if I, say, lost my balance while running a piece through the saw, is I’d get another 1/8″ kerf, 1/8″ deep, and as long necessary to regain my balance and remove my hand from the blade.
About now I suspect those who know me are holding their hand to their mouth, and their eyes are really big, because you’re thinking that I managed to cause myself significant damage. So, I must point out, that the above details only provide possibilities for damage, none of which I endured.
Instead, I managed to cut all the pieces I needed to get the job done, turned my saw off with a well deserved sense of satisfaction, then, for some unknown reason, managed to stick my right forefinger into the blade just before it stopped spinning. Actually, my finger caused it to stop. The result isn’t as magnificent as you might expect. It’s just a tiny little thing, hardly 1/4″ long. And, It’s not deep enough to count as a bona-fide kerf.
Upon noticing the blood attempting to escape the injured digit, I immediately applied pressure with my opposing right thumb which caused me to wonder, to myself, if that’s what opposing thumbs are all about. I mean, if you hurt the inside area of any finger, the associated thumb if perfect for applying pressure. Maybe it’s not about grasping tools at all. It’s a medical issue.
Anyway, I presented myself to Diane, with pressure applied, and the conversation went something like this.
She looked at my hand, then into my eyes and asked, “What did you do this time?”
Feeling properly warned, I responded, “I cut my finger.”
“How bad is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“I haven’t looked at it yet.”
“Well, let’s look.”
I held my hand over the sink as we both looked at my finger with growing interest, then removed my thumb from the wound.
When nothing profound spurted from the tiny wound, we both leaned closer for a better look, and she said, “do you think it needs stitches?”
Noticing the absence of flowing blood, I said, “no, what do you think?”
I was proud of the way I turned that decision over to her and especially liked her concurrence that it was a fairly insignificant wound. She had removed the supply of bandages from the Bandage Drawer during the early stages of this investigation so had a couple of large ones ready to apply once it was determined no stitches were needed.
The bandage pressure relieved the pain for which I was grateful because it was moving from a 4 to a 5 on the Pain Scale doctors use. Normally small wounds like this are a solid 2-3 but the ones on the end of any digit are always worse. I know this because I’m an expert on finger injuries.
After getting the bandages applied I went back to my task of building the silverware divider. All I had to do was glue it together. I would have nailed it but didn’t know where the small nails were. Since I was using Gorilla Glue I figured nails would be overkill so just applied some and clamped it all together for a few hours. It’s a test, really, to see how long it will last without nails.
The trailer is mostly packed for a short inaugural journey to Hood River. The water tank has been thoroughly disinfected following the instructions Diane gave me, using the exact amount of bleach required to make it nice and clean. I did that yesterday. Continuing to follow the instructions, I drained all the water from the tank, and lines, and refilled it with fresh water which I also drained. Then I filled it again and discovered that bleach, in even very small amounts, burns one’s tongue. So, I drained it and filled it again.
Diane can taste it first this time. I’m done with that.
To finish off our evening we went down the hill to Campbell Park to watch another one of Lydia’s softball games. They played Sandy High School and beat them 8-2. Lydia had a triple to center field, and a couple of singles. She’s been hitting the ball very well lately as have most of the other girls on the team. Over the last three games they’ve beat their opponents a total of 43-6.
While at the game I called my Brother, Jim, to wish him a Happy 79th Birthday. I call him every year to do that, adjusting the age accordingly. Turns out that he, Donna (Jim’s first wife), Steffani (their favorite daughter), and Bob (Steffani’s significant other) we in La Grande watching Maryssa (Steffani & Bob’s favorite daughter) play softball for Eastern Oregon University. I was glad he was with family and enjoying himself. Watching Maryssa play is lots of fun, as is watching Lydia.
During all of our trips to and from the trailer today, Ziva became very concerned about our pending departure. She found it necessary to be within visual range of me at all times for fear that I would ditch her and disappear. The other dogs didn’t care, and the cat never cares. But, they are all going to have company during our absence as Jeran is staying with them. It will be OK. Then, on our next trip, all the dogs will go with us. If the cat cared even a tiny little bit, she could go, too. But she doesn’t.
Now my day is complete and I must nap.