Tag Archives: clumsy

Clang! Clang!

31 Jul

I was “on the altar” again on Sunday and managed to create a stir.

When I turned to put the offering plates on the side table, I shoved the lavabo onto the floor. Splashed water all over the chair and the floor.  For a split second I considered using the purificators to scrub the floor, but decided that was not an option. The Senior Warden came up the side aisle with a rag and tidied up while I went on about the business of serving communion.

All I can say is, at least it wasn’t one of the cruets.

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I Should’a Stood in Bed

12 Jun

When we got home from church, I put two fish fillets into the oven, with a sauce of tomatoes and spices, and stuck the probe into one of the pieces of fish to make sure they got cooked thoroughly.

When the alarm went off, I tried to remove the probe, and the fish came along for the ride, letting go when it reached the edge of the oven, and falling down between the oven and the door. I sat the pan as close to the fillet as possible, and took two spatulas (spatulae?) to use as tongs to get the fish back into the pan. The fish landed with a plop, splashing hot, greasy tomato sauce all over the oven, the floor, the door – and me. While The Squire got the fish on the table and cleaned as much of the mess as he could, I went into the bathroom to soak my clothes in hot water. From time to time, our hot water will run brown;  you just have to let it go until it is clear again. Naturally, this was one of the times when it was brown, so now I had two stains  my white blouse.

Nothing a bit of clean, hot water and strong detergent won’t cure – I sincerely hope.

And then as I was going from the kitchen into the dining room, I managed to cut a corner too close and banged my left arm against the china closet, and sloshed the vegetables around in the bowl. Fortunately, I didn’t drop or spill anything.  This is a recurring problem for me; I keep walking into things – door frames, furniture, etc. – and always, always bang my upper left arm.  Between that and walking into dressers and such, if I ever end up in the ER, The Squire is going to be arrested on general principles.

On a happier note, we went to a neighbouring church for a bell choir concert, which is something both of us enjoy tremendously.  We did chat a bit with one of the choir members, as she has the same last name as the rector of the church in Newport, and her middle name is (I think) the same as Mrs. Rector’s maiden name. Really weird.

We have been watching the news for the last hour or so since we got home, and are just horrified by what we are seeing and hearing. We have a dear friend, almost a son, who is Muslim and is beyond worried about this, afraid of backlash, and several friend who are gay, so it must be awful for them also.  Second Amendment or not, there is NO  legitimate reason for a civilian to own what amounts to a machine gun. A pistol or hunting rifle is one matter, a military weapon is another matter entirely.

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Good King Who?

20 Feb

As the weather has warmed up and the snow has settled on itself, there are places in the yard covered with a thin layer of ice, and still some pretty deep white stuff underneath. The Squire and I have been out to the “back forty” any number of times – to feed the foxes, carry out the compost, or put down corn for the deer.

There are still places where the snow is over my boot tops, so I do try to stay in the footprints already out there.  I don’t know if I am trying to go too fast, or am just innately clumsy, but I still manage to stumble and stagger, missing the existing prints, and crashing through the crust to make my own.

This morning I went out to collect the dishes we use to feed the deer, and I managed to make a new print,  and pulled my foot out of my right boot. Standing on my left foot, trying to get my right tootsies back into the boot, and then fell flat on my back in the snow.

Innately clumsy would be my best guess.

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Clang, Clang

30 Dec

We have a four-poster bed, which up to this point has had a metal canopy. Very nice, and all that, but after our visit to Williamsburg this past summer, The Squire decided to replace the metal frame with a wooden one, which he started on Friday.  Much measuring, sawing, staining, and drilling. The old metal framework was dismantled and stacked in the corner between a closet and the door.

We have lived in this house since we got married, and the bedroom furniture is exactly where it has always been. To this day, I cannot get from my side of the bed to the door in the dark – a straight shot, by the way – without walking into something. The base of the cheval mirror, the corner of my dresser, the cedar chest, or the bed itself. I have even overshot the mark and crashed into the nightstand. A week or so back, I walked into the corner of the abovementioned closet and gave myself a fairly tidy shiner.

So – last night I had to get up around 2 AM, and staggered into the stack of metal rods from the canopy frame. It sounded as if I had tossed a half dozen metal buckets down the fire escape. The dog began barking, and I stubbed my toe opening the door.

And The Squire slept through the whole thing.

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