For over a week I’ve had an infected cyst under my right arm, and since I’m right handed this is inconvenient as well as painful. I can ease the pain somewhat by holding my arm out away from my body and putting my hand on my hip for support, but this means that I am virtually one handed. Still, I had gardening to do over the weekend and was determined to do it.
My neighbors probably thought I was impersonating Joan Crawford as they watched me sashay through the yard with one hand on my hip and the other fluttering feebly at my side. I wonder if they also caught my previous act; once I had a huge pimple that forced me to do a chafed, John Wayne style walk. Come to think of it, John Wayne walked around with his hand on his hip all the time, so maybe they thought I was impersonating him.
Anyhow, I have a shrub border that I’ve been expanding off and on for years and I decided that I would finally finish it this summer. My first goal was getting a Black Lace Elderberry planted, but as I stomped my foot down on my long handled spade to drive it into the soil the handle flew out of my hand and whacked me in the face. I saw stars, but I also forgot about the pain under my arm for awhile.
It was obvious that I couldn’t dig right footed and left handed so I grabbed my mattock to grub out some hemlock roots instead. My left arm isn’t as strong as my right, so I knelt down to shorten my swing. I swung the mattock up over my head and brought it down, but instead of hearing the satisfying THOCK of steel on roots I heard (and felt) a dull thud; the mattock had skipped across the roots like a smooth stone on water and hit me square on the knee cap. I danced a little jig and swore a few oaths before deciding that I would probably end up in an emergency room if I did any more gardening that day.
As I lurched toward the house all hunched over, with my left hand clutching my knee and my right still planted firmly on my hip, I must have looked more like Marty Feldman as Igor in Young Frankenstein than Joan Crawford or John Wayne. The neighbors are probably betting that my next impersonation will be Curly from the Three Stooges, so maybe next time I can get myself all tangled up in 50 feet of garden hose and make that dream a reality.
Please tell me what you think of this post