It's a story about someone having a small problem reeling in a medium/small
sized fish and then the story explodes exponentially with each telling and
by each person involved in the situation. That's what I kind of feel like
my story is going to be, lol.
The other night I was making a cake for a lady at my church. She needed a
relatively huge cake. It turned out about as big as the Construction Cake.
Anyway, I wanted to use a wooden cutting board I had stowed for such an
occasion. I could not find it and Andrew didn't know off the top of his
head where it was either. So, being the procrastinator I am, I didn't have
time for a wild goose chase. I decided I'd make the board out of some scrap
plywood in our shed. Oh, by the way, this was 8:30/9:00 the night before I
needed to get it delivered.
I found the plywood I needed, but it was all the way in the back and I
couldn't get it out easily. I had to open up the back door of the shed to
slide the plywood out the door and then back into the shed so I could cut it
in the light of the shed. (Remember, it's dark and the only light I have is
a solar light on the inside.) The shed has a barn-type door in the back
with a siding outside and studs on the inside. I wasn't paying attention to
where my hands were in comparison to where the door was. I made one good
tug at the plywood and this happened:
While they were on my finger. The only thing I can guess is that the ring
took all of the blow. The stone was up against the door stud and the
plywood hit the band. I came out with just a bruise, but I still finished
the cake! :D Well, finished it the next night. Andrew found the cutting
board right after this happened....
Here's the cake! :D
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