First and foremost, I want to thank everybody who posted in response to my last blog post, with your good ideas, your sympathy, and your good wishes. It has been a very difficult time for us, and I know that eventually we will overcome the difficulties and find the light at the end of the tunnel. In the meantime, knowing that my blog community is behind me and wishing me well is really and truly important to me, warming my heart and inspiring my hands to get the job done. I am truly thankful to you.
Your ideas were great! I received many ideas through blog comments and through private emails. Rest assured that we are seriously considering ALL ideas at this time. Your experience and your suggestions are invaluable as we move foward in deciding what to do. The wine business is not completely out the window - we have had much in the way of encouragement to lead us forward. The previous owner did leave behind some books containing recipes, and the equipment is there, so blueberry (or other fruit) wine is not out of the question. Stay tuned as we move forward with our decisions - you never know what you might see!
It's a farm. Stuff happens. It's pretty much inevitable that there will be accidents. Last weekend was an accident that was worse than most (for me) and was a whole new experience. It all began with days and days of rain. Solid, driving, torrential, miserable rain. I felt really bad for the goats - they hate to be wet, and they didn't want to be outside. I had been collecting vegetation for them, mostly in the form of branches and weeds. I was bringing armfuls of goldenrod and raspberry into the barn, each day of rain. On the 3rd day of solid rain, I went down to the road where the big vegetation "chopper" had been by, and collected a vast amount of branches - aspen, apple, spruce, alder....whatever they cut down.
I was bringing an armload of branches into the barn when it happened. The accident. I was on the 3rd of 3 wooden steps leading into the barn, when suddenly, the entire steps gave way. I was thrown forward against the barn boards that held the steps, where the metal brackets and now-exposed nails eagerly took advantage of my legs. I had a huge gash on my right leg that was bleeding buckets, and a bump on my left leg. I gingerly shoved the branches into the goat area, and retreated into the house to tend my wounds. The bleeding was hard to stop, and I was concerned I'd need stitches.
He came home and tried to convince me to go to the hospital for stitches. I knew that, bad as the gash was, it wasn't a candidate for sutures. I declined medical help. He went to look at the steps and determined that the nails had pulled right out of the rotting barn boards, taking me with them. He fixed the steps, and came to check on me again, urging me to go to a doctor. The bleeding was easing, but the pain in the left leg where the bump was, was beginning to mount. I still thought I'd be fine, and I decided to lay down for a while. He went back to work. I was vaguely amused by the growing lump on my shin, which was taking on quite significant proportions. I felt like I'd had half a grapefruit implanted under my skin.
He answered, but I was useless. I could not speak properly. I was shivering so violently that I could not form words, and I was confused and muddled. I remember saying "Hi" repeatedly, because it was all that I could say. I barely remember anything else. What I do remember was being unable to speak or ask for help. I knew in my mind that I needed help, but I was just babbling nonsense and could not even say a normal sentence. He kept asking if I was OK and I remember trying to say "NO" and that I needed help, but the words would not form themselves. Fortunately, even though I didn't realize it, he knew that I had gone into shock. I passed out part way through the phone call, due to the intense pain and the shock. Thank goodness he knew what was happening, and he called 911.
The next thing I remember, there was a policeman and paramedics surrounding me, and I was being asked questions. I was still shivering violently and could not speak properly - it was a cold day and I was laying on the floor of the upstairs without any blankets or anything other than a tank-top and cotton pants. The phone lay beside me, dropped in mid conversation with Richard when I passed out. The paramedics were saying that my leg was probably broken, the swelling was immense. The graze on my left leg had split open due to the swelling and was bleeding. I was unable to stand. They took me down the rickety stairs in a chair of sorts, and transferred me to a gurney. I was taken to the hospital about 30 minutes away for a suspected broken leg and for treatment of shock.
Remarkably, after x-rays and consultation, my leg was not broken. Instead, I had bruising to the bone. It was in fact more painful than a break would have been. The bruising was deep and severe, and the outer layers of the bone had swollen, which caused the incredible pain that made me go into shock and eventually pass out. I had no idea that such a thing could happen. I was sent home with a compression bandage and strict orders to keep the leg elevated, with the compression bandage, and to use ice packs and keep rested. Whew! Not so easy on the farm!
Thank goodness, my dear parents came to the rescue. My mother came to stay for several days to take care of me, despite her own injury not so long ago to her own ankle. We sat together crocheting and commiserating, wearing our ice packs and keeping our legs elevated. What a pair! We went out and chopped branches for the goats, since the rain was unceasing, and slowly I began to heal. Poor Richard had to work and had lots of appointments, so he was away for several days. It was so kind of several of my neighbours to stop by with offers to help, and a wonderful apple pie as well.
Additionally, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Richard, for recognizing that I was in shock and for having the foresight to call 911 when he was a 1.5-hour drive away. He was my hero that day, as he so often is, and without him, I would not have received medical attention that I dearly needed in a timely manner.
Now, just over a week later, I am walking much better and the wounds are healing, although the bruises are a very colourful testament to the injury. The swelling has receded considerably, although it is still much worse at night and better in the mornings.
FIBRE (FIBER, FYBUR) FESTIVAL
I was excited to participate in the Nova Scotia Fibre Arts Festival in Amherst for the past two days. In spite of the injury, I was able to attend and had a brisk business selling my yarns, felted chickens, and scrappy scarves for the past two days. This is an annual festival, but it was the first time I was a vendor.
my Etsy shop with more chickens! Don't miss out!
A huge thank-you is due to my father who made me the incredible "tree" stand that you see in the above picture, on the left, for me to display my felted chickens. He made it on the lathe, with a gorgeous cherry wood base and a pretty finial on top shaped like a turret on a Russian church. He also made the super PVC rack that held all my handspun yarns - the ideal "blend into the background" rack that didn't take attention away from the yarns themselves. I had so many compliments on my booth set-up, I think he could have a new career in building booth hardware!
Huge, HUGE thank yous to both my parents for being the wonderful parents they are - helping me in my time of need and in supporting my dreams and aspirations. I could not ask for more. They are an inspiration and a gift that I can never begin to repay.