Nano Frustrations
NANOWRIMO kicked off on Saturday, and wowzer . . . lemme tell ya, folks, I was smokin' hot, or my keyboard was. 1400 words in an hour and a half. That's like Guinness material for me. So yeah, I was feeling pretty good, dang sure I'd be able to meet the NANO challenge this year. Woo-hoo! Look at me! Writerly champion of the universe. I totally rock!
You know where this is headed, right?
We had plans to go to a game night at a friend's house later that evening, and I always bring something chocolate. Where better to find some chocolatey deliciousness than Pinterest? And I did. Mason Jar Salted Caramel Brownie Trifles.
It looked fantastic and I had all the ingredients, except for pint-sized mason jars. So I bought some, then brought them home and washed them. Does anyone else have a counter perpetually full of dishes to wash? I figured I'd wash those, too.
Very carefully, I put in the bad boy butcher knife that my 20 year old used in culinary school. It's wicked sharp, the best knife we own, so I'm careful about how I wash it.
And then Ada Clare, my 7 month old bundle of fuzzy muzzle love, got into something she shouldn't.
By the time I returned, time was ticking away, I was in a hurry, and I'd totally forgotten about the bad boy in the dish water. I shoved in my hand and pulled out bloody stubs. Okay, so not really stubs, but LOTS of blood. You'd think there were sharks in the water. I howled so loud, my boy working outside on his car tore in the house.
Now there's something you may not know about me. I avoid doctors and hospitals like the plague, and even if I had the plague, I'd think twice before going. So my husband is used to playing MD with me, as in stitching or bandaging, you sicko.
Want to see the final product?
The middle finger knuckle is sliced clean across, so the slightest bend will break it wide open again, hence the plywood splint he whipped up for me out in the garage. The index finger is gashed down to the bone. I've still got total feeling and movement, though, so no worries.
Yeah, I'll heal, but I may not recover from a seriously hampered typing speed. All that confidence I'd built up on Saturday morning is gone. As for my NANO count, umm . . . let's just say pride indeed goes before a fall.
You know where this is headed, right?
 |
| Salted Brownie Caramel Trifle |
It looked fantastic and I had all the ingredients, except for pint-sized mason jars. So I bought some, then brought them home and washed them. Does anyone else have a counter perpetually full of dishes to wash? I figured I'd wash those, too.
Very carefully, I put in the bad boy butcher knife that my 20 year old used in culinary school. It's wicked sharp, the best knife we own, so I'm careful about how I wash it.
And then Ada Clare, my 7 month old bundle of fuzzy muzzle love, got into something she shouldn't.
 |
| Bad Boy |
By the time I returned, time was ticking away, I was in a hurry, and I'd totally forgotten about the bad boy in the dish water. I shoved in my hand and pulled out bloody stubs. Okay, so not really stubs, but LOTS of blood. You'd think there were sharks in the water. I howled so loud, my boy working outside on his car tore in the house.
Now there's something you may not know about me. I avoid doctors and hospitals like the plague, and even if I had the plague, I'd think twice before going. So my husband is used to playing MD with me, as in stitching or bandaging, you sicko.
Want to see the final product?
 |
| Home Made Splint and Bandaging |
Yeah, I'll heal, but I may not recover from a seriously hampered typing speed. All that confidence I'd built up on Saturday morning is gone. As for my NANO count, umm . . . let's just say pride indeed goes before a fall.
