Stigmata

The sure sign that a blipper suffers for his... well... his blipping.
My intention was to walk down the slip to get closer to the bottle green water to get a better shot.
I did not.
Because I do not make it there. I forget that slips can be... well... slippery.
What you see here is the consequence of 12 square centimeters of hand stopping the fall of a 94 kg mass on rough concrete covered with the thinest most inconspicuous film of ultra slippery weed.
The pain was much lessened by the knowledge that the camera was intact (hence the absence of a second hand to cushion the fall).

The kids were very concerned.
Very.
They asked me if:
1- I was going to bleed to death
2- We would still be able to stop at the ice cream parlour on the way back home as they hoped to

I replied that:
1- I shall see yet another dawn tomorrow (fingers crossed)
2- We would unfortunately not be able to stop at the ice cream parlour on the way back. Not because of my hand. But due to the fact that they had barely touched their lunch and I have principles and I stick to them.

No seriously, they were concerned and they both asked me if it would help if they were to blow on my hand. I asked them if indeed they would not mind blowing on my wound once I managed to pick myself off the concrete slip. They did, and despite the gale force wind around us, the warm feel of their little concerned breaths made me feel instantly better.

But I wasn't mollified to the point of getting them an ice cream.

I have principles.



PS: my left thumb is not really that size, not point in getting unnecessarily excited...