Slammed with stuff right now and the big revisions for four novels (same ones they just take a long time!). So I'm a little scarce lately. I hope things will calm down in a couple more weeks.
In the klutz news: I've been notorious since I was a kid for hurting myself. My family used to laugh at me and now my husband does. Sliding across the blacktop on my bare knees during Steal the Bacon or falling off the clothes hamper (60 stitches in my leg) or cutting myself with a knife in the kitchen or burning my finger on the stove.
In the last week:
1. Almost burned the house down when the oven caught fire. Yeah, I hadn't cleaned it in a while. See, I've been slammed with work lately. Anyhoo, I thought it would stop if I didn't give it any oxygen and when I checked a few moments later the whole oven was ablaze. Smoke pouring out, alarm going off. I almost called the fire department, but I managed to get close enough finally to douse it with baking soda. It took the rest of the afternoon to get all the smoke out of the house. Later that night I cleaned the darn thing. My cookies burned.
2. On Saturday we went to the BYU/UNM football game with a big group of friends. We rooted for BYU, our alma mater - of course! - and the game was SO exciting and we clapped and pounded the bleachers so hard I completely bruised up my left hand. It swelled and now it's all purple. Embarrassing. BYU won - whadda ya think? 31 - 24. And that was after the referees took away one of the touchdowns five minutes after the fact. Sheesh.
3. That same night I was finishing up some dishes and I was washing a very large glass lid that goes to the frying pan. It slipped and SHATTERED into a thousand pieces into the sink. Gravity defying glass. It flew UP! My hands were literally covered in about two dozen tiny shards. Blood dripping. I didn't move. Screamed for my husband and he and my son slowly and carefully picked out all the shards and pieces over the next 10 minutes while I stood there trying not to freak out.
See, I have weird accidents.