My originality (huh? ed) is waning, because every time I go to write a title for a blog, the text appears below, which says I have already used it. Ho hum, I doubt my millions of readers will notice.
I did a silly thing yesterday. I was trying to bang a long screw out of a balustrade (long story) and in so doing I managed to smash the end of my ring finger, left hand, between the balustrade and the concrete floor. To say it hurt is not really making use of language to convey the full meaning of things. I have never felt pain like it, and I have been through child-birth*.
My finger is now swollen up to the size of an over-ripe grape, which does not sound much, but I can tell you the blood has made it tighter than a timpani drum in a freezer, and if only I was allowed to stick a needle in it....
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* Admittedly, first time I didn't know much about it, and second and third times I was in the audience, albeit my hand was squeezed very hard, and the names I was called can only really be understood when under the influence of "gas and air", a service I thought was a nice touch for the father-to-be.
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