Back in 1802, when I was a living the country life, there wasn't garbage removal/pick-up. Everyone either had their own "burn barrel" or you brought your trash to the dump.
The burn barrel was off the path as you headed towards the barn. And back in those days, we seemed to get a lot more snow. The reason I mention snow is quite simple. This little story took place while there was snow on the ground.
One of my chores was to carry the kitchen trash down to the burn barrel. Simple enough task. I mean really all you had to do was walk...walk just a couple of hundred feet down the worn path located at the edge of the driveway. It was that path that also led to the barn when we needed to feed or fill the bathtub with water for the Angus.
I got dressed in my typical Saturday clothes...jeans, flannel shirt, knee socks (navy blue). Then stopped in the breezeway to put on my winter jacket and my tall riding boots. They were really nice boots...brown leather that had been broken in "just right". Trash in hand, I began my journey down to the barrel. But, as my luck would have it, just as I got close to the barrel I slipped and fell, landing in the snow. I picked myself up, brushed myself off, feeling pain in my left shin. Then I noticed a lot of red stuff oozing from my left knee. "Darn! I thought, I'm in trouble now", as I climbed the path back up towards the house.
Sure enough, when I told my Aunt that I had fallen and cut my knee, she told me to go upstairs and change and then she would take a look at it. Well, when I took off my jeans, it was NOT pretty. Oh, there was a gash on my knee alright, but there was something else too. There was a gaping hole in my shin and all this white stuff was popping out. It sort of looked like a marshmallow had been jammed in the hole! LOL!
Yep...you guessed it. Another trip to the doctor's office! Left knee...easy. Butterfly. Hole in shin...not so easy...Novocain...removal of threads from my NAVY knee socks, dungarees and leather from my boots...then stitches! Then several weeks using your favorite and mine...crutches...just until those severed muscles and ligaments had a chance to put themselves back together. Oh, that's right. I forgot to tell you. When I fell, I landed on the blade of the axe resting up against the barrel!! My teachers at college were not happy to see me walk into class using crutches...again! The nasty scar still sits on my shin.
Did I ever tell you about the time I...