Well, it seems the annual tradition of me inadvertently slicing or stabbing myself in the hand continues.
Today's adventure involved a wickedly sharp chef's knife and some fresh herbs that got a little too close to my left thumb while I was chatting and chopping away, in the midst of making a delicata and chard alfredo dish at the Bloomingdale farmers' market....
Luckily, I am calm during self-inflicted wound crises. (I should be by now: don't tell me you have forgotten the incidents in 2010 and 2011 already.) After looking down at my suddenly slivered nail, I put down the knife, picked up a paper towel, put some pressure on the seeping cut, and made my way directly to the market information table. The market director, Robin, and nearby Big Bear Cafe owner, Stu, were both nearby and quick to supply me with first-aid supplies. I managed to stop the bleeding, rinse out the cut, and get bandaged and rubber-gloved by Stu within about five minutes before I was back to whisking the alfredo sauce.
I swear I am not a masochist and I am generally pretty good with knives. No really.
Have you any idea how often I am wielding potentially dangerous kitchen implements?
It's actually somewhat impressive that I only injure myself with sharp
every 600 times that I pick up a knife. Okay, fine, I made up that
statistic, but it
really isn't that often, all things considered.
Anyway, it'll heal. The sooner the better: using the Blackberry (TM) with one thumb and a forefinger is really awkward....