As he sets his teeth against the pain, I squelch the urge to bring up the pain of childbirth. Surely that is a pain that trumps all others. Anyway, as I watch his face contort some more, I decide, the heck with it and do mention childbirth. He is not impressed. Hubby has a splinter in his finger in the most awkward of places, the side of the ball of his right thumb. It has been hurting for two days and looks swollen and red. I'd checked it before but couldn't see anything so more or less told him to forget about it, but it is now tight with pressure and had ached all night so there must be something there.
We use the special light in the office; it is a wonderful combination gizmo...light and magnifier and I am finding it more and more useful. Just the other day I bought a bottle of probiotic pills and the print was so tiny I had to use this lamp to read the label details.
After soaking and probing and soaking some more, I do finally see a tiny bit of darkened something or other in his thumb. Yes, a splinter is there and after a bit more working around I manage to grasp the edge and pull it free. It is lodged in tightly and pulls a piece of skin with it on the way out. I hold it up and we mutually admire it...it is huge in splinter terms; it's actually a tiny piece of wood and I believe him now when he said it had really hurt going in. It has left in its wake a small gash in his thumb which we soak in tea tree oil and put a bandaid on.
This is one of the downsides of heating with wood; it is not the first time I have had to pry a splinter from one of our fingers. I hate using the gloves all the time to handle wood chunks so I guess it is my own fault; he was busy cutting the day he ran into his. I used to have a silly notion about splinters; when I was little I thought if you left one in your finger, it could somehow travel to your heart or brain and kill you. Probably I heard this from one of the kids on the street or at school.
Ahh, splinters, minor in the scheme of things, and especially compared to the idea that the wood pile might be a home for snakes...
And here, something completely different, the quail in redwork.