As so often I am in awe. Of the body. And what it can withstand.
As you know I don’t do blemishes. Which is why Zeus struck thunder and graced me with a burn. Yup. Yesterday I procured a beauty of a catch of tiny sardines. Glistening. So overjoyed was I I promptly managed to dip the top of my right index finger (just below the nail) into red hot olive oil. This was whilst turning one over. Those of you who have paid attention in physics will know that water has nothing on oil. Luckily the Angel was passing through the kitchen and – as asked – retrieved a packet of frozen peas. Too late, too late …
I am now blessed with a monstrosity. A burn blister if ever there was one. A balloon. Oblong. Shape of an overgrown almond. Only fatter. And, no, I am not going to prick it. Let nature take its course – my motto.
As the French would say: I ‘ate it, I ‘ate it, I ‘ate it. For some reason h does not feature in their spectrum. Come to think of it: Americans too can’t go so much as for a bunch of thyme without asking for ‘erbs’.
Yes, it’s all very sad. Wishing for my former beauty to be restored, yours