The following is the true story of my Saturday evening...........
This is how it goes..........Hugo decides he is going to sell a piece of antique furniture on e-bay.
Photos are taken of the large eight foot high, Victorian glass-fronted cabinet, and posted on e-bay.
Quite a few people are interested in said piece, so decide to empty it of all its books, and move it to the hallway.
All books are removed, and re-located............ so far, so good.
"I'm just going to take some more photos of it", says Hugo.
I'm bending down, picking up things strewn on the floor, so don't see Hugo open heavy glass door on cabinet..................
I don't notice Hugo step back from cabinet which has heavy glass doors, and no books in it to weigh it down.
I don't see it, but I sense something is toppling over, towards me..........
My reaction is to put my arm up to protect myself.............
............To protect myself from the glass fronted cabinet that is crashing towards me.
The next moment I hear Hugo shouting, and look up to see him trying to hold up the cabinet.
I look down and notice that there is blood spilling out of a huge gash in my hand.
(I think someone in the special effects department of a movie set might have been impressed with their own handiwork,had the gash been their creation, but then the director would have come along and said something like, "nah...... too over the top, too much like a piece of steak you're cutting up for your dinner........ make it more believable, less steak-like".)
.............This sort of incident does not happen to me........... I mean, really, it was like some slow-motion out of body experience, but the body wasn't mine.
Hugo was frantically telling me to sit down, but I decided that some sort of cloth was needed. Otherwise there was going to be an expensive dry-cleaning bill for the rug.
So off we went to casualty.
After five sewn stitches, and strips of tape in between, all beautifully carried out by the nurse, Rosetta, (who also happened to be a lovely, lovely person), and having had a good laugh at the blood spattered all over the floor from when the plastic bag and tea-towel had been removed fom my hand, and an extraordinary fountain of the red stuff spurted all over the place..................
.............. we returned home, dazed and confused.
Luckily there had been no nerve damage, which was very fortunate, as it is my right hand, the one I use to draw and paint with, and which is also indispensible for the knitting process.
I now have a slightly puffy and bruised hand, decorated with stitches and tape, and bandages, and an infection that is being nipped in the bud with anti-biotics.
Oh, and a hand that is not at full performance, but which will be.
In the mean time, I would like to make the best of a bad hand............and...........
.......... Distract myself with a bit of bling.
This is Rebecca, the first in my line-up of Scar Faces.
Tommy is fourteen years old, and a bit of a joker.
Dora is secretly a bit of a party animal.
Madge is a career woman, works in fashion.
Joe is Madge's brother, he makes sure his boss's shady dealings are dealt with.
Lorna writes romantic novels.
Pete wouldn't tell me what he does.
And this is me, children's book illustrator..............
I think this could be a great game for a child, or adult, who has a scar............. especially if he or she is embarrassed by it.
I couldn't resist playing around with imagery of my scar after the bandages came off, and the stitches taken out of this.
Thankyou so much to everyone who has shown concern over the accident to my hand, and asked how it's doing, I've been really touched by your thoughtfulness. These pictures came about as a result of wondering how I was going to reveal the damage under the bandage........... my apologies if they have made you feel nauseous............
