Ouch. The sometimes title of the story I wrote in school again and again for various assignments about how my sister and I discovered my dad's severed fingertip (the other title being Darn It!). Why did I write it again and again? Because, come on, if something like that happens to you, you've got to tell as many people as possible, right? So here's the gist of the story:
My dad works in a cabinet shop. In that cabinet shop, there is a table saw. My dad is cutting on this saw and the wood slips somehow and the two middle fingers on his left hand make contact with the blade. Ouch. My dad looks at his fingers and says to himself "Darn it! I needed those!", which is possibly the funniest and truest thing to be said at that moment. So after my dad and mom make their way to the hospital, my sister Jessica and I are left at home (where the shop is) with my grandpa, who has the unfortunate job of cleaning up the mess. Now, while my grandpa is at the far end of the long bench that the table saw is attached, Jessica and I are standing by the actual saw end of the bench, investigating. Why? Who knows. Well, as you can imagine, there is a large pile of sawdust on the floor by the saw. Jessica kneels down and finds a rock on top of the pile. I dare her to turn it over with a stick, which she does, and surprise! It has a fingernail on the other side. We run away screeching and my grandfather tosses the fingertip into the dumpster, which Jess and I are convinced is haunted for months.
Thank goodness I don't have a picture of that to show you, but I do have a pic of my work in progress...
I'm doing a scrap quilt a la Amanda Jean. Mine is a little more, um, random than hers though. We'll see how it ends up.