You know what? Maybe I was a bit hasty when I said that my life could not compare with blockbusters for thrills.
Have you ever seen one of these films where the hero gets mauled by a lion, or hit by a bullet? Not only doesn't he start screaming with pain like you and I would, but he then proceeds to tend the wound himself, extracting the bullet with his trusty (or should I say rusty?) bush knife, with only the occasional wince to remind us of the ordeal he is going through.
Well, I did pretty much the same today. Okay, I did not indulge in DIY surgery, but I helped somebody get rid of a cast on their wrist, armed only with, ahem, garden secateurs... Hey, I'll have you know that secateurs can be a very dangerous weap..., err, tool, and those were dead sharp. If you don't believe me, take a look at the mangled remains of the cast after we had finished with it.
And if you think this is scary (I don't know, maybe you've led a very sheltered life), you should have seen the 4-foot long hedge shearers that were our first choice as surgical instrument.
Suffice it to say, I feel now that I belong to the elite of the blogging community. Especially since we also managed to bake some gingerbread. And the day is still young!
See you next year.
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