I caught my finger in the door this afternoon when I out. I know not to hold the doorknob with my left hand when I close it since it puts my fingers in the area between the edge of a rather heavy door and the door frame. But alas, my mind was on other things apparently and I realized quite suddenly as I pulled hard on the door to shut it (house has settled, door sticks) that the end of one of two keyboard poking fingers was still on the other side.

I just noticed the fingernail has turned a lovely shade of black as a matter of fact. I mean I flattened it good.

I’m quite disappointed that none of my neighbors were in the vicinity of the driveway while I danced around the tarmac holding the end of my poor crushed finger, describing rather loudly to no one in particular just how I felt about the current situation. I think they would have enjoyed the show.

So I’m having to substitute my middle finger in place of my squashed index finger in order to type this post which, to anyone who might be observing me at this moment, looks like I’m giving my display an upside down one fingered salute. I hope it doesn’t take offense.

As an encore I plan to drop at least one large piece of semi-green maple firewood on my foot tomorrow while moving the firewood that’s stacked outside into the woodshed. Then I can hobble around the back yard on one foot cursing myself for wearing sneakers instead of my steal toed work boots. One must plan these kind of accidents carefully in order to get the full effect you know.

Hopefully my neighbors will be home this time.