I have a kitchen slicer / mandolin that is sharper than a Japanese Samurai sword and ever since I bought the thing 10 years ago, I have been waiting to slice off a body part. It is an awesome piece of machinery and it’s not that I particularly want to lose a body part, it’s just that it is sooo sharp and I am sooo clumsy. So finally a year or two ago, it happened and I succeeded in almost slicing off my right hand at the shoulder.

Okay, so it was only (and I’m using the word ONLY very liberally here) the top 2cm of my little finger, but that’s 2cm more than I would like to lose. I did request that whoever found it in their cucumber salad should please give it back, but luckily this wasn’t necessary, as it was still (barely) attached.

My first reaction after letting out a very unladylike swear word, was to have a little lie down (or pass out), so I quickly left the kitchen and lay down on the grass outside (I am the person who has to clean up in our house, so one must be sensible). I was bleeding profusely when my (wonderful) nephew, Douglas, rounded the corner and found his (aging) aunt lying on the ground spurting blood. He quickly made up some sugar water for me to drink (for the shock) while Joerg poured ice water over (me and) the (blood pumping) wound (for the fun of it I’m assuming).

My husband is also a witch doctor of sorts and decided to do one of his bone throwing treatments. The last time he did this I grew a beard and spoke in a deep voice for months, but he assured me that he had gotten better. And believe it or not, after a bit of hocus pocus, the bleeding stopped and the pain was gone!

Well, where’s the fun in that? How can you bleed the situation (aren’t I so clever?) when there’s no blood?! I was hoping for 2 weeks of foot massages and no cooking, cleaning or any other tasks, and all of a sudden I’m fine again. Not even a beard. (In fact, even that one stray hair I have on my chin disappeared.) I was desolate.

The very top photograph is of the Tamarisk next to our pond. This is also a completely non-related photograph that I took in spring of wild cannas in our garden. Hey, it seemed inappropriate to take a photo of the following situation…

I am not the only one prone to accidents in our family. A few years ago my mother-in-law had gotten up at 6.14 sharp (they are German after all) to make coffee for everyone, but her blood pressure was really low and she passed out, hitting her head on the stone floor. She cracked her head open and lay bleeding profusely until her husband got up at 6.38 sharp (timing is of the essence, ja wohl) and found her there. He calmly called for me to come downstairs and when I waltzed down and found her I ran upstairs to Mon husband who was in the shower.

“Come quickly,” I screamed, “your mother is laying dead in an ocean of blood!” (Thank goodness I can stay calm in all situations.) He charged naked and wet out of the shower and down the stone (and now slippery) staircase to see what was going on. He slid (of course) – this is called a “follow-on” accident, they said at the hospital – and ripped his leg open (and he had to have x-rays). So he rushes (limping) to his mother, crown jewels blowing in the wind, dripping cold water and more blood onto her. Monty Python couldn’t have created a more strangely “comical” situation. Eventually the ambulance came and both parties could be taken to hospital. His mother claims she never saw the crown jewels, but she has had to wear glasses since the incident…

Said husband had an accident of his own this very week, all his own fault mind you, so very little sympathy was being proffered. He yanked open the fridge and dislodged a jar of (Nynke’s excellent fig) chutney which crashed to the floor and shattered. He then proceeded to lose his balance and step onto the broken glass with his full weight. What is so bad about this that he gets no sympathy, you may ask? I shall explain.

1. Brutal opening of the fridge after wife (repeatedly) said “Don’t do that!”
2. Best jar of chutney gone.
3. Broken glass and chutney everywhere AND guests arriving within the hour.
4. Proceeds to drip massive amounts of blood throughout kitchen!
5. Wants to lay on the couch and elevate foot – couch throws had just been washed!!

I could go on and on, but I am sure you now understand why he got no sympathy. The boy has been unable to walk properly for a week so I am slaving away…growl. Shame, poor man, the cut is actually very deep and directly under the ball of the foot, so he is not a happy camper. I have since forgiven him and he is once again allowed to have his meals inside the house with the cats and I…