Puncture Wounds and Other Bloody Things

Some of us take accident proneness to the level of artistry.

Who knew you could impale your finger on a clove of garlic!

Though let it be said this was farm fresh garlic from a friend's Dad not the half-moldy-china-import variety. But who knew the tip of a garlic clove could be as sharp and sturdy as a rose thorn.  It bled and bled, and is now very sore.

I worry sometimes Samantha may have inherited this trait as she goes careening around the house catapulting off furniture. She has a healthy collection of bruises on her knees. Esther is afraid she's going to knock her teeth out.

I let her get a three wheel beginners scooter out from the toy library. The first afternoon it seemed that every five minutes she'd scream bloody murder.

Samantha: "Oh my baby toe."
Mummy:" What happened?"
Samantha: "The wheel of my skate (aka scooter) ran right over it"
Mummy: "Well these things happen when you are learning to ride a scooter."

Five Minutes Later

Samantha: " Muuuuuummmmy, I hurt my big toe AND my knee."
And so it went most of the afternoon, but now she is gliding and navigating  much better.

So there is hope she will be more graceful than her mother.

Does any one else remember how I scraped my face just days before we went to Disneyland?

Well let me refresh your memory.

 Once upon a time, I loved to go careening up the post office steps on to the big stone rampart and jump off. I did this every time we went to the post office. And just the week before I discovered I could spin as I jumped off just like an Olympic athlete on the high dive, forget there was no swimming pool.

 Mom was screaming "Stop Amber! Stop! Get back here."

 But Mom always did that. The key was to jump before she caught me right?
Well on this occasion, what Mom was trying to tell me and I failed to notice was that someone had moved the newspaper stand just under my giant stone jumping platform.

If I'd been a chubby little thing I probably would have got stuck half way like a dandelion in a cement crack but being on the minuscule side I went right down between the concrete blocks and the newspaper stand scraping the skin off my forehead, nose and chin. And I couldn't get out.

I think Mom was more upset that I  would be scabby in all the vacation photos than that I  hurt myself. I mean really that was nothing new was it?

Maybe I should be more worried about Samantha stacking things on the coffee table to jump from.

Now here is what you all really want, Photos of Samantha.

Inside her "hay-cubby"

This was the day before Samantha got sick (yep she has another cold) I pruned the two bottle brushes and the geralton wax.
Samantha was delighted to find "a hay-stack" in her very own front garden, otherwise known as lawn clippings. We've been reading Farmer Boy and the Little House books so she went jumping in the hay and carrying it around and made herself a cubby.

Ever the one to encourage flights of imagination I dragged over a couple of geralton wax branches to make it a "very secret hay cubby".