so, i decide to make that buckwheat pie with a bit of mincemeat, loads of onions, some garlic and tomatoes.
the buckwheat is boiling happily, most onions are fried up, now i have the last onion and tomatoes to fry, and i am i the process of cutting them.
little wolfie has been doing stuff round the kitchen, and left a broom right in the middle of it, and is somewhere, and so i am watching out for him, so i do not step on him or so.
big wolfie is trying to tidy up, and i have to watch out for her, too.
and i am still cutting those slimy slippery skinless tomatoes with a knife of my own honing, remember?
so, there is this one loud ‘knack’, and the tip of my little finger is gone. i run to the cold water tap, asking wolfie to bring stuff to stop the bleeding. the second pan of onions start to burn. i express myself emotionally in 4 known languages, latin included.
when the mess has been cleared up, wolfie says – ‘mm…can i see the bit you cut off?’ and i go – ‘here, take a look.’ wolfie – ‘yuck.’ i – ‘what did you expect?’ wolfie – ‘i dunno, i did not expect it to look so… dead meat?’ me – ‘(facepalm)’
then i threw the piece into the waste bin.
honestly, how differently intelligent one has to be to do this?
and the bloody thing is still bleeding. yuck indeed.
Peregrin sum 