November 25th, 2007
I have been a bad Blogosaurus. Instead of doing the mountains of school work I have, I’ve spent the last two days working on a quilted Christmas tree skirt. When it’s on the floor, Husband and I do the savage Christmas dance on it, complete with stomping and chanting, but apparently the Christmas gods are not appeased by mere dancing – they need blood as well. This is the only explanation I can think of for why I stabbed my finger right through with the sewing machine needle.
I was threading the needle and committed the bone headed error of leaving my foot resting lightly on the presser foot while I did so (non-sewers: this is what makes the machine go). Just as I tucked my finger under the needle to move the thread, my foot tucked down and stab! I sewed myself! I also let out with a major girl scream, because it hurt like hell and scared the bejeesus out of me. Those needles are probably two millimetres thick, and it had gone from the top of my index finger right out the other side! I also tried to leap away from the machine, but because a single foot press moves the needle just down, I was trapped. (Note to self: yanking on trapped, stabbed finger hurts – next time just hold still.)
The worst part came next, when I realized I’d have to hit the presser foot again to bring the needle up – and that’s just a horrifying thought. I did it – and surprisingly it didn’t hurt at all to remove it. Hooray for shock. But oh unholy gods, as I drew my finger away from the machine, I saw that I really did sew myself – my festive gold and green thread was neatly right through my finger from the top and looped to the bobbin thread from the bottom in a single perfect stitch. My machine’s tension was perfect for sewing fingers, if perfect stitches are bloody, because mine sure as hell was.
After braving needle removal, I just couldn’t face picking the stitch out. Luckily Husband was right next to me, summoned away from his poker game by my ungodly shriek. He snipped the thread and pulled it out, and then we got to take a fun trip to the doctor for a tetanus shot!
So now I have a throbbing, aching index finger and a billion pages of essay to type with it. This is what I get for sewing when I should be writing.
Your husband has been having other poker games behind my back? That poker slut!
It’s like a gash and the stitches all in one.
Oh wow, I’m doing a complete and totlal heebie jeebie dance in my chair. bmuahahah! (That’s not laughing, that heebie-jeebie-ing, there’s a definite difference!)
Hope that heals quickly!