I ate a bag of potato chips yesterday. I know, newsworthy, right? *rolls eyes* Finished my chips, read my book. (I tend to eat while I read - food just tastes better when you have a good book in front of you.) Ten minutes later I felt what I thought was an eyelash on my cheek, right underneath my eye. Went to brush it away - and ouch! Not an eyelash at all, but a tiny sharp piece of potato. I thought nothing more of it until I realised a half hour later that it still hurt. So I went to the bathroom to look in the mirror, only to find a nasty red scratch under my eyelashes, with just a teeny-tiny bit of blood on it.
Yup, first blood by potato chip.
Sooo, I thought about putting an antiseptic cream on it, but I can't, because it's too close to my eye. Same goes for a bandage. When I'm in the house I just leave it alone, open to the air, but I've been spending a lot of time in the garden over the last few days, getting muddy and dusty, hauling wood and turning over soil and fighting with the spiders who think that the whole world's their territory just because they have more legs than I do. (Well, I only have two arms and two legs, but I have a pair of double-Ds - beat that, Arachne.) So when I'm outside I have to wear an eyepatch. The ones the doctor gives you are no fun - they're all medical and sticky and pink and not even remotely sinister - so I sewed my own cool black one to wear over the top. If I get a sunny day when my camera'll work well, I'll get you all a picture and you can laugh at me, although I might end up tossing you to Davy Jones' Locker. (Is that the right usage of thst term? I'm not really up-to-scratch on my pirate lingo - last time I talked Pirate was in college.)
And that's all I have to offer today.
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