Coming November 2010
Fire
Available from Amazon.comComplete Your Collection!
Visit Robin McKinley's bookstoreon Amazon.com for any of Robin's books you may be missing!
A few words from our sponsor*
Peter in Slightly Keyboard Challenged Mode:
Subject heading: As you perfectly well know
i DIDN’T THINK OF anything BEFORE i MARRIED AN aMERICAN*
*It seems appropriate that it should have come out like that.
XOXOXOXOX P
Subject heading: Re: As you perfectly well know
AND A GOOD THING TOO.** I LIKE living in England.
xoxoxoxoxox R
Peter in I’m a Yiddish Challenged Brit Mode:
Subject heading: Klutzim
1. What are they?
2. Am I one?***
3. If so, do I get a card?
4. Do I get free life insurance with it?†
Love, P
* * *
* You better believe he’s our sponsor. He does all the cooking while I sit at the kitchen table moaning and typing the evening blog entry.^
^ I can’t remember what I used to do in the evenings before the blog. This is probably just as well. Although I do remember, whatever it was, I used to get to the piano sooner after supper.
** There was just not a lot of thought going on on either side. Have I told you this story? Hannah rang up one of my local friends–one of the ones who’d met this man who was apparently about to bear me off permanently to a foreign shore–and said, I’m appalled. The friend, bless her, said, Well, I don’t know, but I think we should trust Robin. And they are both grown-ups. History does not record what Hannah had to say about the ‘grown-ups’ part.
*** YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES.
This is the man the middle joints of whose left fore- and middle-fingers are smooth (instead of wrinkly) because he had sliced them off shortly before I moved over here. (They are however slowly getting wrinkly again. They were miniature-platter-smooth for years.)
He has a scar on his left thumb from when he was six years old. His father had just changed his typewriter ribbon^ and Peter asked if he could have the old one. His father said, Be careful, the tin’s sharp.
He has a scar in the centre of his left hand from where he put a chisel through it. I hit an artery, Peter says, and the blood came out whoop whoop whoop [with hand gestures].^^
The last joint of his right little finger is slightly odd. This is because he was making a dash for the phone, slipped on the matting in the hall^^^, and landed on his finger.
And that’s only his hands.
He poured a kettle of boiling water over his foot the night before we were married. I wasn’t letting him get away with this and made him sit with his foot in a bucket of ice water through supper and the sister [nurse] at the surgery [clinic] the next morning said that for a burn that severe he’d got off very lightly and what a good thing he had an almost-wife with sense. And he got his foot into his shoe for the wedding that afternoon too, in spite of the dressing on it.+
Some time also in our early days we went to Belfast because Peter had been invited to give a lecture–it may have been the Youth Libraries Group–some official organisation that pays attention to kids’ books–which was holding its conference at the University of Belfast. We were staying at a pleasant B&B near campus, in a room on the top floor, with slanted ceilings and a dormer window. You can see what’s coming, yes? Peter has always got up earlier than I do++ and he was going to wake me gently. The bed was tucked under the eaves, and, as it happens, I was just waking up as Peter walked to the foot of the bed, leaned down, and . . .
. . . disappeared from view, with a nasty cracking noise.
I finished waking up and flung myself to the foot of the bed and, looking over the edge, discovered my husband supine on the floor, looking dazed, or maybe I guessed at the dazed from what I could see of his face through the curtain of blood. I bolted for wet towels and the landlady+++ and by this time Peter was sitting up and insisting that it was nothing just a scratch please don’t make a fuss he had a lecture to give in forty-five minutes. I remember having breakfast with Peter clutching one of the gory towels to his forehead–quite put me off my food, it did–but better yet was the entrance he made at the conference–still with the gory towel: you know how scalp wounds bleed–walking down the aisle with a little bow-wave of gasps attending his progress. He gave his speech, um, dripping.
By this time however pretty much the entire conference was ganging up on him so afterward he graciously allowed someone to find the doctor on call–and, trust me, if there hadn’t been one I’d've found a hospital–and she put six stitches in.
I suspect the landlady is also still telling this story.
^ Yes, this blog is about history
^^ So, does everyone know what you do? You find something to put a little pressure on the inside of the elbow, and then close the elbow over it. While you’re getting the car out for a bolt to A&E [the emergency room].
^^^ Ah yes, the matting in the hall. There are a few things about the old house I do not miss, and that matting is one of them. It was made out of hessian?, maybe–it always reminded me of really cheap, nasty tatami mats. Walking–or falling–on it was like walking (or falling) on gravel. (Walking on good tatami is like walking on silk.) You went barefoot in the front of the house or up the stairs at your peril. It was also ugly: what I used to call babysh*t brown, although I acknowledge it depends on your baby. When I pointed all these things out to Peter he protested, We raised four children on that matting! And it’s still as good as new! –This was not a virtue in this case.
+ There are, you know, photos
++ Even before I was regularly staying up till 3 am
+++ What I don’t remember is the ‘getting into clothes’ part of this story. Presumably I managed to get my dressing-gown on because I think I would remember the effect a hysterical naked woman would have had on the landlady and any other incumbents.
† Let us, momentarily, imagine the insurance company that would take on the klutzim. . . .
comments
Please join the discussion at Robin McKinley's Web Forum.
Hello Peter :: waves ::
Wow! You out klutz the klutzim! Take care – they’re good stories but I prefer the ones you write where the drama is fictional; and I still remember the concert where you shut your hand in the car – OWOWOW!
****** I’m a Yiddish Challenged Brit
Why are americans so
Ah, here’s your mysterious comment! Alive and well! –Gods yes, I think he has a new SCAR from that one too.
(Comments won't nest below this level)
****** I’m a Yiddish Challenged Brit
Why are americans so much more conversant with everyday yiddish? This made reading The Yiddish policeman’s ball HARD WORK until about page 200, when I suddenly GOT it (sigh)
(sorry if the previous comment makes no sense but it suddenly disappeared of its own volition – eep!)
I don’t know, why don’t British Jews use more yiddish? Did all the yiddish speakers wind up in America? –Golly, was Yiddish Policeman that bad? Evidently I know more yiddish than I thought. (Four words rather than three.) I think I’ve said before that I have a huge crush on the whole Manhattan intellectual Jew thing.
(Comments won't nest below this level)
****Why are americans so much more conversant with everyday yiddish?****
Because we have more Jewish stand-up comedians? Because so many people in the entertainment business generally are Jewish? Because we have lots of Jewish writers who produce novels sprinkled with Yiddish and write books like THE JOY OF YIDDISH?
****This made reading The Yiddish policeman’s ball HARD WORK****
There was a glossary at the end . . . :)
Oops. There was?
. . . Evil suspicion just raised its spiky head and I went and looked at my BRITISH edition and . . . there IS no glossary. Now how’s that for *sense.* They publish it in a known low-familiarity Yiddish zone and CUT THE GLOSSARY. As well as giving it the ugliest cover of the decade. Good grief.
Did all the yiddish speakers wind up in America?
It’s possible. Maybe England’s Jews are largely Sephardic–the Sephardim don’t generally speak Yiddish.
His father said, Be careful, the tin’s sharp.
*SNNNRRFF*
Peter is undoubtedly the King of Klutzim. (You could tape a few of the bookmarks into a circlet for his investiture ceremony. Instead of an orb and a sceptre, you get a large roll of gauze and some pressure bandages…)
LOL! MEMBERSHIP CARDS, not BOOKMARKS. **PAY ATTENTION.** :)
“Maybe England’s Jews are largely Sephardic–the Sephardim don’t generally speak Yiddish.”
Not so. The English tossed out the Jews very early on, indeed i.e. at the time of the Crusades. Most of the Jews came to England in the nineteenth century fleeing from persecution in Eastern and Central Europe, so definitely Ashkenazy.
****** They publish it in a known low-familiarity Yiddish zone and CUT THE GLOSSARY.
Knowing that I could have had help and it was snatched away… now that’s just cruel :(
Your Best Beloved is King of Kluztim. Let us krown him. Karefully.
At least two of my online Buffy group have read Sunshine and enjoyed it, and one is going to read Chalice next. She also said it was time she caught up on your work. Heh heh heh. “Turn two, the rest are food.” :)
YAAAY. :) Thank you! (The rest are FOOD? Is this a Buffy reference my sieve-like middle aged mind is missing?)
Yes, he IS.
(Comments won't nest below this level)
It was an episode of Angel – the LA vampires organized, and their recruiting slogan was “Turn two, the rest are food”. I don’t remember much else about it, though – I never really got into the show. Buffy is better. But that’s just my humble opinion, others may not share it.*
The works of Joss Whedon are just full of useful quotes.
*”A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend.” Which is another useful quote, this time from Willow.
Yes, I never got too far with ANGEL. But that was also starting to be my No More Time for TV era.
* You better believe he’s our sponsor.
Thank you Peter! And be careful out there!! LOL
btw… new pics of Charlie and Cherry :)
http://b-twin-1.livejournal.com
Yaay big fat woolly lambs!! Awwwwwwwwwww! :)
Re headdesk moment: you might like to branch out some time and be secretary to a Famous Writer. (No, I’m not famous enough and I can’t AFFORD a secretary.) But we get some lovelies too, including clever suggestions about changes in subsequent editions to SOLVE little problems as perceived by letter writer. . . . My desk has a HOLE in it. . . . My head probably does too. . . .
(Comments won't nest below this level)
you might like to branch out some time and be secretary to a Famous Writer.
Oh I’m sure you get some rippers! LOL
I had one woman, who brought her entries in late (the section already had judging underway) and who complained when I wouldn’t take them. “It’s always been like XXX” she grizzled. I said “it was in the schedule…”
“OH I DON’T READ THAT!”
LOL!!
LOL!!!!! Yes, like all the emails I get who HAVEN’T READ THE FAQ!!!!
They look like they’re doing well, and so CUTE. What breed are they?
Sympathy for your trials as ag show secretary. I am chairperson for two conformation shows and an obedience trial, but my life is made much easier by the fact that we use a professional superintendent to process entries and arrange the schedule. Exhibitors with silly questions have to talk to THEM, not to me.
(Comments won't nest below this level)
What breed are they?
Drysdale. :) Specialty carpet wool. And cute. ;) And smart.
“A few words from our sponsor*”
Always delighted to hear from Peter, and perennially grateful for all he does to keep the Robin machine running smoothly :) Sorry to hear there are so many shiny mangled bits of you too!
You weren’t kidding when you said “A few words from our sponsor”. You had more than he did. I think you were desperate for blog topics today… :)
I am never desperate for blog topics. Unfortunately. :)
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Hah! Life insurance! For Klutzim!
That is just too amusing a thought – like when they make you say that any pre-existing conditions are not covered.
Sample phone conversation from the end of the Insurance Agent*:
“Were you a klutzim before you signed up for coverage? You were? Well then, it’s not covered under your policy. Actually, I’m not sure we can insure you anymore at all – klutzim are the bane of the insurance industry. You’ll have to pay for it yourself, I’m afraid. No, it is considered a medical condition but since it general begins in early childhood most klutzim aren’t covered. I’m sorry. Have a nice day, ma’am!”
Ack! This comment morphed as I typed it, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t actually resemble what I originally meant to say, which I blame on being woken by the dogs several times in the night and the allergies…
*every time I wrote anything dealing with the word “insure” in this post, my finger typed Unsure first and I had to go fix them all. Unsurance Agent.
And remember to type user name please!!
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Sorry about that – I was on someone else’s computer and I forgot that it doesn’t automatically remember me…
Wordpress is not the friendliest that way either.
Didn’t he also get hit by a bus on the way to his job interview at Punch? That’s been immortalized in Something About the Author and the like for all eternity, I think. ;)
Snork! Yes–I’d forgotten. There are MANY more stories I’m afraid. And Southdowner reminded me that–speaking of hands–he closed one of his in a car door only a few months ago as immortalised *here*.
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Peter sounds worse than me, klutzim -wise. So smart of you to put his leg in ice water!
(And I know from shoving your foot into shoes these days as well.)
Angel’s last season was really good. Worth watching.
Tomorrow morning at 8 mountain time (yet again!) I will be having surgery again. This time they are putting a real skin draft on, one theyy take from me. Ouch. Whimper.
There’s supposed to be more pain so I don’t know when I’ll get back to you all here, but I’ll try and do it soon.
The new explanation of the wound is that I was bitten by a shark while rescuing a small child. Gotta go with something!
LOL! SUCCESSFULLY rescuing a small child, of course!
Good luck–skin grafts are NO fun.
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Oh I do hope the graft goes well and both sites heal with minimum problems and as little pain as at all possible. I’ll be thinking of you and lighting candles.
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Best of luck and a speedy recovery. :: lights candle ::
(Comments won't nest below this level)
***A few words from our sponsor
I just want to say that this was a particularly lovely, adorable post – all of it! And this just goes to prove my theory of klutzim attracting klutzim – and does he get a card? I’ll second anne_d’s suggestion of krowning him king.
Does Mr Dickinson read the comments at all? If not, would you _please_ thank him for writing such wonderful, beautiful books? I’ve read his books since childhood – my favourite was a book that in Swedish was called “Den blå höken” (= the blue hawk) – and you know what a part of you the books that you grow up with are! Anyway, I’m finding it rather difficult expressing myself (that may be why I’ve never said anything earlier – I’ve simply never known how to go about it!) Anyway, thank him so, so much! (And I’m really looking forward to reading his newer books – I’ll be “getting” to them on my list, hopefully soon, yay! – particularly “The Ropemaster” and I’m utterly thrilled that it has a sequel – because I know they are brilliant!) Please excuse my incoherence…(Oh, and it was a funny, thrilling feeling to read in “Rose Daughter” and realize that this wonderful author I’d just discovered was married to – Peter Dickinson! I come over all girly and mushy over weddings…)
WRITE TO HIM. He has a perfectly good web site with a perfectly good email address on it. :)
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Oh, does he? I shall go bother him then. I acquired ROPEMAKER recently and it was divine.
Good. Now read ANGEL ISLE. :)
***WRITE TO HIM. He has a perfectly good web site with a perfectly good email address on it. :)
Really? Well, I never have written to any author like that before – it seems so…pushy; why would anybody care what I think? (I’ve always been cripplingly shy.) So you can imagine that some of your rants were an absolute revelation to me!:) The idea to write and demand help with schoolwork or free copies for whatever reason or BLAMING an author obvioiusly wouldn’t have crossed my mind – or the idea that it might cross ANYBODY’S mind wouldn’t have crossed my mind… Anyway, if I can get my courage together I will write! (It was incredibly hard to post my first comment on your blog – I would NEVER have scraped together enough courage to write you an email! – but you were so nice and kind that…) Would you believe that the IDEA of writing or wondering if Mr Dickinson had an email address didn’t even enter my head? It didn’t and I’ve been to his web site!:)
Well, you seem to have caught the yattering-on virus that I have so severely, and Peter likes getting fan mail just as much as the next author (me!) :). And remember there’s a link to his web site in this blog’s ‘about’.
***Well, you seem to have caught the yattering-on virus
Oh, I’ve always had THAT! Only it was slightly more under control “in bygone days”. Sigh. I wasn’t constantly BABBLING – since I was so shy I was very quiet in school etc. I blame my present condition on being happily married – there is very little censure between what I think and what I say to my husband. It was a total shock to me when I started speaking up on meetings at work etc – one part of me would go “Will you just shut up! Shut up!” and I would seriously consider literally kicking myself – but I didn’t think it would help and very likely it would put me in a bad mood…Now I’ve just resigned myself.
(To me writing and speaking are very similar – only there’s a little more editing in the former – but would you know it?):)
I think literally kicking yourself *is* a (ahem) step too far. :)
hello and thank you peter. may i just say la ouch! i can sincerely sympathize because my husband comes home with some interesting bruises from work accompanied with stories that make me wonder how his co-workers haven’t killed him yet. ex:he was changing a man hole in the street and it weighs about 40 pounds, they move it with a backhoe and while trying to place it,the guy running the backhoe swung it and hit david in the chest. knocked him about 5 feet backwards. good thing he is a big man but sometime i wonder a the close calls he has had in the 25 years he has worked for our town.
That’s just so not okay. Did David report the b*st*rd? He should have been FIRED for that.
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Over here the Occupational Health & Safety inspectors would have *roasted* that employer.
YES.
*****Let us, momentarily, imagine the insurance company that would take on the klutzim. . . .*****
I think Klutzim Life (Klutzic Life? Klutzidic Life?) would have to pay out if the holder managed to survive to a predetermined point.
Klutzidic Life! Yessss!!! SNORK!
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Oh wow, Peter should wear padding. Actually, both of you should. (She said, thinking about the can opening incident, the fish bone incident, and slipping in the kitchen incident.)
*sends helmets and lots of soft, bouncy clothes*
Soft bouncy floors, ceilings and walls maybe . . . and fishbones. And jackknives. And . . . hmmm . . .
(Comments won't nest below this level)
*****Ah yes, the matting in the hall. There are a few things about the old house I do not miss, and that matting is one of them. It was made out of hessian?, maybe–it always reminded me of really cheap, nasty tatami mats. Walking–or falling–on it was like walking (or falling) on gravel. (Walking on good tatami is like walking on silk.) You went barefoot in the front of the house or up the stairs at your peril. It was also ugly: what I used to call babysh*t brown, although I acknowledge it depends on your baby. When I pointed all these things out to Peter he protested, We raised four children on that matting! And it’s still as good as new! –This was not a virtue in this case.*****
Hmmm. A new bride ought to have a FEW privileges. And I’d think you might have elected to use one of them on this — er — thing. :-) One ought to be able to walk barefoot comfortably in one’s home.
*****What I don’t remember is the ‘getting into clothes’ part of this story. Presumably I managed to get my dressing-gown on because I think I would remember the effect a hysterical naked woman would have had on the landlady and any other incumbents.*****
Ah — so you DO sleep naked. Damn — I wish you’d carried that over to more of your heroines! Nightgowns and pajamas are so — I don’t know — dowdy or something. Can’t imagine being bothered with them.
Judith
There’s the little question of money. We were always at full stretch just keeping the roof on the old house. Nine bedrooms, five attics, outbuildings, two and a half acres . . . two free lance writers. I still don’t know how Peter and his first wife did it–with four kids she was the full time kid-rearer type wife.
Oh, for pity’s sake. The scenes in SUNSHINE where she’s wearing bedclothes wouldn’t work if she were naked.
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Oh, for pity’s sake. The scenes in SUNSHINE where she’s wearing bedclothes wouldn’t work if she were naked.
You could always re-write it.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
::ducks for cover and is glad she is on another continent::
(I know, I know… BAD joke. BAD. ;) )
Lovely to see Peter pop in for a min. And thanks for the ginormous laugh! (wait…we were *supposed* to laugh at the head smashing and blood dripping right? Or am I just showing my bloodthirsty side?)
I rarely hit my head on even low ceiling, due to shortness, but I regularly hit it on the underneath of things (When you’re a shrimp you never think twice about crawling UNDER something.) I promise to laugh heartily the next time I attempt to brain myself. (when the cursing is over, of course.)
Yes, yes! You’re allowed to laugh! All body parts are still fully functional!
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Hello, Peter. I’m surprised Robin didn’t offer you up as an exemplar for all klutzim, but I hope you have achieved emeritus status and can forgo further klutz events.
****Let us, momentarily, imagine the insurance company that would take on the klutzim. . . .****
Well, they might figure that people who have survived these incidents more-or-less intact weren’t meant for accidental death, but being insurance companies rhey’d more likely just charge enormous premiums for highly-qualified and limited coverage. :)
LOL!
(Comments won't nest below this level)
“When I pointed all these things out to Peter he protested, We raised four children on that matting! And it’s still as good as new! –This was not a virtue in this case.”
If the matting was that prickly, I should think the children were very happy to be raised from it as quickly as possible! :)
WordPress must have eaten my comment to your Dahlia post, too ::commiserates with Southdowner:: . However, I know hou haven’t got time to go looking for it so – I was asking about how your organic slug pellets coped and sharing my anguish about a) new dahlia shoots being eaten time and again and b) the amount of beer I had to put out in traps this year.
Yes, slugs have been unusually vicious this year. But the organic pellets work just fine so long as one remembers to REPLACE them when they disappear. Ahem. And I do recommend the copper rings. I don’t think the plastic rings with the turned-down brims are worth piffle, although HOW the slugs negotiate the brims I have no idea. But copper really does discourage the little (*&^%$££ so if you happen to have missed tucking EVERY leaf inside they’ll still hesitate. My problem is that my garden in full hurrah is a JUNGLE and it’s impossible to segregate things individually enough to protect them with either rings or pellets.
(Comments won't nest below this level)
:Sound of rolling around on the floor, laughing:
But, yikes. I suppose you can’t enclose Peter in one of those hamster balls, or maybe a padded suit? The padded suit might permit cooking, if he got waldoes. STEEL waldoes.
I meant to tell you that a couple of nights ago I had a terrible dream that you’d decided to rewrite Deerskin, and it was partly a screenplay (you know dream-logic), so it was both me re-reading this appalling book and watching this appalling movie, with Old Doctor Who level special effects, and lots of crummy dragons. Made of snow. And you’d changed Deerskin’s name to Pigface.
Anyway, I recommend strongly against any changes.
I think you need to talk to a nice shrink . . . :)
(Comments won't nest below this level)
I think I have to agree…your husband IS the King of the Klutzes! :)
P.S. This is probably one of the most entertaining blog entries of yours I’ve read so far.
:) Peter was a little *wistful* about it, so I’ll tell him. . . .
(Comments won't nest below this level)
re: hysterical naked woman
my beloved roommate, when her daughter was 18 months old, was in the kitchen when she heard thumpety thumpety thumpety SCREAMMMMMMMMMM!
from the stairs.
Not having been raised in a child-full rough and tumble household, she immediately immobilized the child and called 911.
It was only when the paramedics had strapped the daughter to a guerney and were ready to load her into the ambulance that they turned to my friend and said, “Ma’am, you can put your pants on now.” She had been, ahem, unclothed from the waist down.
Epilogue: child was, as you can imagine, completely fine, no bruises and ready to get down and play with the kids in the ER waiting room by the time the ambulance reached the hospital. The only damage was to her parent’s life expectancies.
LOL! Oh, poor woman! Although as an ex-ambulance driver I will say that you get kind of inured to the behaviour of people in a panic!
(Comments won't nest below this level)
Just to help our sponsor (because I feel you do baking and odd cooking rather than the steady everyday kind – which I perfectly understand and support, particularly if you find a way to get away with it), and because looking at ajlr’s photos of cheese made me think of chutney longingly here is my mother’s recipe for apple and apricot chutney:
Judy’s chutney
This is my mother’s general use chutney recipe which we consume with grilled meat, cheese, cold cuts and (my sister Katerina) with lentils. The original recipe, several generations back was from one of Maddhur Jaffrey’s books, and it is long enough ago that which book is a matter of conjecture, but this is after various changes have been made to it.
500 g sour cooking apples (3 medium apples)
220 gr dried apricots
50 g sultanas
2 cloves garlic peeled and mashed
2 one-inch cubes of ginger grated
400ml white wine vinegar
385 g caster sugar
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Peal, core and chop the apples. Combine all the ingredients in a heavy bottomed stainless steel pan. Bring to a vigorous simmer for 30 minutes until thick and jam-like.
Place into sterile jars and vacuum pack these. We store it in the fridge, but it rarely lasts very long.
I also use this as a basis for mixing with pan juices with a bit of mustard and wine or juice when cooking meat or chichen.
LOL!!!!!
(Comments won't nest below this level)
candles lit and good thoughts for sshunt. you have all my encouragement and take any pain med they offer, my dad got second and third degree burns at work and had to have skin grafts,they say that your own skin grafts are better than other ones if your lucky to have a place to take from.my dad’s rejected his because of the damage to the tissue.i hope this takes and you don’t have to have any more .go with your rescue story, i like it.
Let us, momentarily, imagine the insurance company that would take on the klutzim. . .
…and there was I thinking that AIG had to be bailed-out because it had foolishly got way out of its depth in the financial derivatives market, whereas it was really due to the level of claims from klutzim!
Yes. The dark secret we weren’t supposed to know. :)
(Comments won't nest below this level)
” He poured a kettle of boiling water over his foot the night before we were married. I wasn’t letting him get away with this and made him sit with his foot in a bucket of ice water through supper.”
One Thanksgiving I made a turkey in one of those disposable aluminum pans. When I took it out of the oven, the pan twisted, and I spilled boiling turkey juice on my foot. I was having more than forty people for lunch, so I spent the day dragging the bucket of ice water I soaked my foot in around with me! I actually slept with my foot off the edge of the bed in that bucket that night as well. The next week, I went out an bought the sturdiest (and most expensive!) REAL turkey roaster I could find!
And how is your foot–?
(Comments won't nest below this level)