Sunset from Hill House, Mount Helen. February 2024

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

The Poor Old Builder

It was another beautiful day on Sunday. I had a nice piece of brisket to roast. I made a Yorkshire pudding batter. I spoke to Tony (whose birthday it was) and Stella on Skype. And I decided that we needed not only some milk and bread from the dairy, but also a nice bottle or two of wine to go with the Sunday roast.

So off The Builder and I went, crossing the road on our way to collect the car, enjoying the sunshine and the unseasonably mild weather.

And all of a sudden, The Builder caught his foot in one of the potholes, or cracks, or possibly one of the raised iron things that adorn Bridge Street outside our place - and he went flying ;-(

He ended up cracking his head on the kerb and lying full stretch in the side of the road.  His glasses went flying.  The car key went flying (eventually I found it under the ivy which grows over the wall of the house across the road).  All I can say is that it was just as well it was a Sunday morning, when there is almost no traffic.  If it had been a Monday morning at that time, not only is there much more traffic, but it comes round that corner far too fast and would likely have run him over ;-(

There was blood pouring from his head when he finally managed to get up. Luckily (and extremely unusually) I had a wodge of tissues in my pocket.  Very fortunately, his glasses were not broken. And extremely fortunately, neither was he.  We went back across the road (gingerly) and inspected him. A cut on his temple. Two very grazed, bruised and swollen knee caps. Grazed hands. And a wrenched shoulder which still hasn't properly recovered from when he fell down the stairs.

He had to change his clothes (his jumper was in a very sorry state!) and we made another attempt at the dairy and the supermarket.  I drove!!

While I was in the supermarket I also bought some cans of Old Speckled Hen, some antiseptic wipes (for minor cuts and grazes) and a supply of band aids (because I couldn't remember if we had any in the house).  He wouldn't let me take him to the hospital to be checked over and all my internet doctors were asleep. So we applied the antiseptic wipes and the plasters externally and the beer internally, all of which seemed to work.

It was extremely scary to watch his head bouncing on the kerb :-S  How he didn't knock himself out or give himself concussion is a mystery to me! 

I have written a somewhat grumpy email to the council pointing out to them that the state of the road outside our place is a disgrace.  I wonder if they'll do anything about it

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