A painful reminder

 Way back in the same year as Woodstock, I started my apprenticeship in the metal industry. That's forty three years, or over eighty thousand hours of working on machinery of all shapes and sizes. Add to that the many hours of woodwork, car repairs and climbing trees with a chain saw thinking I was a lumber jack.  I've developed a deep respect of the danger of most of the machinery I use, and total fear of the remainder. But I'm not perfect, a few splits seconds of stupidity have resulted in some injuries, fortunately only minor. A few adult words and some stitches and I'm off again, always promising myself to be more careful.
 Last week I had another reminder that a lapse in concentration can be painful. I was polishing the inside faces of a two ton mould with a 7 inch sander. The sort of sander seen in most boatyards. It's an unpleasant  job, interest evaporates quickly, enthusiasm not far behind. And I guess, after two hours in hot and humid conditions, my concentration too. The sander caught an edge, kicked out of my grip and sliced the outside of my wrist in the process. More adult words and stitches, but feeling very lucky that I cut the only part of a wrist that doesn't contain tendons, arteries or nerves. A fluke.

 Now if you think of the arsenal of weapons in the average workshop or garden shed, a sander is not the first thing that comes to mind as dangerous. Hand and power saws and electric planers maybe, but not sanders. And I think that is where I failed, underestimating the possible damage that it could do and not guarding myself from that danger.

 My loving and talented daughter gave me a large framed copy of this photo for Christmas. a generous gift. As you can see, all my ten fingers are still attached. Once again, I promise myself to be more careful.

 Look after yourselves out there................