The Price Ya Pay

...for carelessness. Yeah, I was stupid. I'm currently sitting here, typing this with one eye taped up and swollen, all cut about on the eyebrow and the eyelied.

It's my own damned fault. I wore a hat to keep the sun out of my eyes, and off my face, because it was an exquisite early summer's day here in Tasmania, and we were in City Park, Launceston to have a picnic with Tehani and Tansy and sundry others and all our many spawn. Crystal, beautiful skies. Maybe 23 degrees. Gorgeous weather. Families everywhere, people with kids, folks laughing and playing -- the whole bloody scene, like something out of the first ten minutes of a Yankee horror film.

We prepped for the picnic. Tansy brought many fine cakes. Tehani brought bread and chickens and food and blankets. I brought cheeses and pate and dips and biscuits and some very fine wines, and drinks for the kids and stuff, and we were well set. Also, the boys and I swung past K-Mart first, and picked up some basic cricketing gear. The boys needed a new bat and a couple balls, and we got a cheapo set with a smaller bat and some really basic wooden wickets for the Mau-mau.

And thus it was that there was Much Cricket In The Park. And I met Jo (again! Hi Jo!) and John, and Susan, and... dammit, I've forgotten his name, and many kids, and I exchanged greetings with Aurelia and Jemima, Finchy and Tansy, and played amiable cricket alongside David.

But. There I was wicket-keeping. Yep. And the ball got away from me. (Did I mention that Genghis, at nine-almost-ten has developed a truly wicked bowling action? Seriously. He's fast, and accurate, and it would be funny if he wasn't so damned serious about it all.) So I chased the ball.

Remember the hat? This is where it comes into play. The little oak tree had a low-hanging branch. I was chasing the ball. My peripheral vision did not warn me. Next thing I know, I could literally feel the skin of my eyebrow and eyelid tearing against the rough bark.

Owwww. Fuck.

Happily, there were nurses amongst the group, and a most excellent medical kit. And David has some experience with eyebrow wounds, so it got cleaned, and steri-stripped, while I sat there and bled. Grrr.

But let's add insult to injury, shall we? I drove back to Scottsdale, and stopped at the hospital just to have the field dressing checked up. Confirmed with the on-duty nurse that it probably wasn't worth a stitch, and the first aid was good. Had a bit more cleaning, and some iodine, and yippee skippy, time to go home.

Unpacked. Settled onto the couch with an icepack. The boys put something on the video player...

... and the shiny new Yamaha amplifier made a popping sound, and died in the arse. So now we're back to the fucking awful sound system on the TV, until I can get into town with the amplifier (which is still well in warranty) and kick the supplier into repairing or replacing the item.

I hate that shit. Goes neatly with my new headache.

Mind you, I had a good Friday evening. A visit from Toni Fish, which was overdue, and very well received. There was much of drinking and revelry, and I created a nifty new dessert in her honour. It's more or less a kind of parfait... but the adult version adds a range of shotglasses. And the first layer was a lime/ginger-syrup granita, for which the shotglass contained gold rum. The second layer was a frozen pineapple puree, which got blue curacao. The third layer was mango jelly, which got limoncello. The final layer was chocolate mousse, and that was accompanied by creme de menthe.

It's officially "Toni's Rainbow", and it's damned good eating. And when you're done, there's all the extra stuff in the shotglasses to start mixing up cocktails!