I was chatting with Ken about the events for the day; the different options that we were looking at. He was so excited that rather than to go the Gun Club, I suggested that we head to the BLM land in order to test some of the 20 gauge shot that he made for me. As he headed towards the bedroom to get showered, I started putting the bacon grease into the container. I picked it up and was going to put it back into the refrigerator. Unfortunately, the container was slippery and I lost my hold on it. It hit the counter and my brain REFUSED to pay attention to me.
For those of us who are old, you will remember Schoolhouse Rock! Telegraph Line:
The second example was appropriate for me today. I KNEW that the grease was hot, but my instincts kicked in and I didn't want the mess. By the time the information got to my hands, it was too late - I got burned on both hands! Ugh! Ken was amazing. I bolted for the sink and got my hands under the water while he cleaned up so neither of us would slip. Then, he spent the next hour doting on me to make sure that there were no blisters. He even went and got the non-stick gauze so we could wrap up my hands to try and keep them from getting worse.
So, rather than heading to empty some shells, I spent the day in my jammies with my hands looking like this:
I couldn't hold anything, so no stitching, no shooting, no nothing! I managed to use the remote control, so I caught up on the recorded TV shows.
By supper time, I was able to take a shower. There are no blisters - Thank God! The heat from the shower didn't hurt too badly, so I tried cooking again. The menu for tonight was Chicken Cordon Bleu with rice. Yum!
And, no - I didn't burn myself on the stove again!
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