Image by Nina Garman from Pixabay
Ouch!
I had already used my new strimmer to tackle the overgrowth of weeds and long grass at the bottom of the garden. I started with the plastic blade, as the metal ones looked lethal.
It worked well but tended to snag on the long grass. So, when I wanted to finish what I started, and there was still so much to do, I changed the blade to a metal one, hoping it would cope better than the plastic one.
Looking back, I wish I hadn’t.
I was happily clearing the overgrowth when the blade hit something. I had been concentrating on the ground before me, so when I glanced down at my feet, I was unprepared for the sight that presented itself.
My left foot was covered in blood. Strangely, I could feel no pain, but the blood kept coming. I am well used to bleeding while gardening, for the brambles are not shy about attacking me, but this amount of red stuff was worrying.
Dropping the strimmer, I limped back to the house, leaving a scarlet rail in my wake. Through the courtyard and into the kitchen, I was singlehandedly creating a murder scene from a slasher movie.
I called for help, and my sister came running, her eyes widening in horror at the sight of me sitting on the kitchen floor, trying to remove my flip-flops and spreading blood around like water.
Wearing flip-flops was stupid, but I swear the strimmer blade was nowhere near my feet. I swung it from side to side in front of me, almost like a scythe.
Sis wrapped a wet dishcloth around my foot to stop the bleeding, but the blood continued to flow. At this point, I thought I must have severed my toe at the very least, but it still wasn’t hurting.
We swapped the wet cloth for copious amounts of kitchen roll, trying to exert a little pressure. After a while, we had a peek to see if the blood had stopped and slowed down to an ooze. My big toenail seemed to be floating, so I thought I would try to pick it up. I was most surprised when it came away in my hand. The toe was undamaged, but the nail bed looked raw and unprotected.
With my toe wrapped as best we could, I started cleaning up, not looking forward to the following nagging. I have broad shoulders, but I knew I had it coming. I was just pleased it hadn’t been any worse.
Next time, I will wear my strong gardening shoes and won’t use a metal blade again!
Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes 
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