I've been working with metal. I don't have the scraps I want to work with, but I have foil and mesh and rods and stuff to work on, and we'll see what the results look like. As per usual in this sort of medium, I have variously punctured fingers. But I was brave! I went out of the house!
In other injuries, I split open my left heel earlier today, a wound more or less exactly comparable to the sort of thing that happens when one drops a ripe tomato. It bled, though sluggishly, for about four hours. I performed this amazing feat of utter idiocy by failing to recognize that two objects cannot be in the same space at the same time; I attempted to move about the back eighth-inch of my foot through the upright portion of one of the stairs. Gods, that hurts.
I am frightfully oppressed by my husband. You see, we were in the Home Depot (in which we bought a large flowerpot, a soldering iron, and two random bits of copper piping) and waiting on line for the register. Home Depot has little random checkout line impulse buy items near the registers, including, at this one, rainbow-coloured string, which he inspected carefully. He turned to me and said, with I thought excessive solemnity, "Twine."
"Goes by?"
"What?"
"So slowly?"
He made a face at me. When we got out into the parking lot he complained about my sense of pun, to which I could only reply, "But twine can do so much!"
At this point he started threatening me with the flogger. I told him I'd have to tell
suzimoses, so there. (Consider yourself informed about Kevin's activities, dearheart.)
Wow, it's nearly four-thirty. This is probably a sign I should go to bed.
In other injuries, I split open my left heel earlier today, a wound more or less exactly comparable to the sort of thing that happens when one drops a ripe tomato. It bled, though sluggishly, for about four hours. I performed this amazing feat of utter idiocy by failing to recognize that two objects cannot be in the same space at the same time; I attempted to move about the back eighth-inch of my foot through the upright portion of one of the stairs. Gods, that hurts.
I am frightfully oppressed by my husband. You see, we were in the Home Depot (in which we bought a large flowerpot, a soldering iron, and two random bits of copper piping) and waiting on line for the register. Home Depot has little random checkout line impulse buy items near the registers, including, at this one, rainbow-coloured string, which he inspected carefully. He turned to me and said, with I thought excessive solemnity, "Twine."
"Goes by?"
"What?"
"So slowly?"
He made a face at me. When we got out into the parking lot he complained about my sense of pun, to which I could only reply, "But twine can do so much!"
At this point he started threatening me with the flogger. I told him I'd have to tell
Wow, it's nearly four-thirty. This is probably a sign I should go to bed.
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He's just lucky that you didn't break into song: "The fundamental things apply, as twine goes by." And that you didn't insist on buying some for your foot, because twine heals all wounds.
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*groan*
(But the chuckle that follows kinda ruins the impact I'm afraid)
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Baltimore pages: Why me?
Long distance to Baltimore: Annapolis just thought she'd share. :}
From afar, Baltimore is buried in puns 1st, 2nd and 3rd hand. :>
Long distance to Baltimore: Annapolis grins.
I paged Baltimore with 'She also suggests that we could have gotten some for my foot.'.
Baltimore pages: Twine? For your foot?
I paged Baltimore with 'Yup. Because twine heals all wounds.'.
From afar, Baltimore whimpers.
Long distance to Baltimore: Annapolis patpats. There there.
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- Brooks
[1] This is, of course, why baling twine (or baling wire) was commonly used to fix things, back before duct tape.
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it was at this point, that i laughed quite loudly, badly frightening the cat.
n.
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... they never threatened to flug me, though. <sigh>