Old Maiden Aunt Yarns

Studio 30. Ritchie Street. West Kilbride. KA23 9AL. Scotland. info@oldmaidenaunt.com

silly accidents – & a contest!!

we were having a discussion at my knitting group the other night about all the stupid accidents we’ve had. & either the folk at my knitting group are an exceedingly clumsy bunch, or it’s something that happens to everyone at some point. i’m talking about the times you’ve fallen over for no reason, or walked into a telephone pole, or (as i once did) tripped over the dog, then the cat, & then the hoover, all in the space of two seconds, before sliding down the door into a crumpled heap on the floor.
& with perfect timing, the very next day after we’d been talking about these kind of things, i had yet another stupid accident yesterday morning on my way to work. my car ran out of screen wash, so i pulled over into a parking bay at the side of the road to refill it. i’d pulled quite far over to make sure that i was well clear of traffic, but the parking bay was banked by a big hedge. & when i went to open the back passenger door to get the extra screen wash & water out of the back seat, my (handknitted!) sweater got caught in the hedge, i lost my balance, and i whacked myself right in the face with the car door! & what’s even worse is that although my left cheekbone is now incredibly painful, there’s no bruise of any description, so i don’t even have anything to show for it.
so to make myself feel like less of a clumsy ass, i’d love to hear some stories of ridiculous accidents from all of you. & just to make us all feel better about the stupid messes we get into, i’ll even throw in a fabulous prize from my very own stash:

STR LW g-rocks
socks that rock lightweight, mill end skein, colourway “g-rocks”

so, tell me about your most idiotic stupid accident – bonus points if, like me, you’ve actually really hurt yourself, but have nothing to show for it, so you didn’t get any sympathy. i’ll keep the contest open until next friday (29th february), & here’s how to enter:
if you have a blog, post your story on your blog with a link back to this post, and leave me a comment telling me you’ve posted your story.
if you don’t have a blog, post your story in the comments to this post.
i’m sure we’ll get some good laughs out of it, we’ll all feel a little less stupid, and one of us will get a gorgeous skein of yarn!!

7 Responses so far.

  1. RooKnits says:

    This is going to be a long one! In my first year at uni I went to visit a friend in Cardiff, we went to a club and were dancing a little to enthusiastically to Disco 200 by Pulp when I lost my balance and fell off the raised dancefloor. The step down was only about 10cm and I hadn’t even been drinking as I was recovering from tonsillitis at the time. I remember it hurting quite a lot to walk home, and the next morning my foot was quite swollen (I remember having to take the laces out of my Dr Marten’s to get my boots on).My train back to Sheffield was booked for lunchtime and I set off for the journey home, limping a little. The train journey took about 6 hours as we got delayed because of bad weather and when I got into Sheffield there was about 6 inches of snow. I really struggled to get off the train because my foot really hurt. I ended up calling my flatmates in tears from the station as I could hardly walk, had no money for a taxi and the cash machines were all out of order. They came to get me and, being enthusiastic first year medical students, examined my foot and then insisted I went to casualty. After a long wait and a couple of x-rays the doctors decided that I had actually broken my foot in about 4 places and 2 of my toes. However by this point the people in the fracture clinic had gone home and I was told to come back tomorrow to get my leg put in plaster. To make it worse, because I wouldn’t let them cut my favourite jeans, I ended up going home with my leg bandaged up in loads and loads of cotton wool and a hospital gown on my bottom half, pinned together with some safety pins to try and keep a bit of my dignity! There are photos of me hobbling down the snowy path to our flats on crutches, trying not to slip or fall, wrapped in a hospital gown. My “kind” friends managed to get this photo enlarged to poster size and framed for my 21st birthday!

  2. sarai. says:

    Mine is short, as my common sense was.

    I tried to take off my shoes as I was descending the stairs to my apartment. Then I fell.

  3. Emma says:

    I forgot about this one the other night: last spring in krakow i was standing at the back of a tram leaning against the armrail, when i wanted to get off the tram it turned out my elbow had gotten itself wedged in between the arm rail and the window and after much twisting and pulling it would not get unstuck. and i had no idea how to express my predicament in Polish. i eventually got unstuck by yanking the stuck arm really hard with my unstuck arm thus removing the elbow from the tram by force. it was quite painful and left a big red mark and i missed my stop twice.

  4. Marianne says:

    One morning I got up to feed the dogs and missed a step and fell down the carpeted stairs. That doesn’t sound TOO bad but I hit the top one. And kept going. *bounce*bounce*bounce*bounce*. On my coccyx (tailbone). It was so bad that I couldn’t sit for about 2 or 3 weeks. I couldn’t drive, either. Ever try to put a heating pad on your butt crack? Can’t be done. My ex-husband had to drive me everywhere – for a bruised tailbone. Extremely humiliating.

  5. soCherry says:

    Once (in the hazy days of Art School) I got a little tipsy at the Art School Club. As we stumbled on our merry way home I decided that I needed a wee.

    So I modestly crouched behind a bush and began. I knew there was a wall behind me, and as I (inevitably) began to lose my balance, mid-pee, I reached for it.

    It was further than I thought, and I was congratulating myself on realising before falling backwards … only in trying to avoid falling backwards I overcompensated somewhat and fell forwards … straight into the thorny bush.

    And had to present myself at the doctors on Monday with an infected thorn jab just above my belly button. The doctor actually wrote ‘fell in a thorn bush while drunk and infected self’ – I couldn’t believe it!! Now it’s on my records for good.

    AND I had to get an ‘extra wide-berth needle’ stuck in my belly to get rid of the infection 🙁

  6. ikkinlala says:

    I am not quite the worst person I know for this type of accident (I have a friend who’s had several concussions caused by tripping over her own feet), and I’m not sure if I can choose just one worst incident, but here is the candidate which doesn’t involve falling down stairs:

    At my high school, there was a short hill between the level of the school and the level of the soccer fields. Very short. Maybe 6 or 8 feet. In the spring this hill got muddy, and, while I was usually careful, one day I was in a too much of a hurry and ended up falling/sliding down that little hill, bruising my tailbone and getting myself absolutely covered with mud in the process. Fortunately I don’t think anybody saw me do this, and I was able to visit a friend (who lived nearby and is quite a bit older than me) and get cleaned up a bit before I got teased about it too. I spent the rest of the day in soaking wet and cold blue jeans, which was uncomfortable but (in hindsight) may have helped to soothe my tailbone.

  7. Victoria says:

    I saw this post last week and have been pondering which incident I should share with you. Should it be the occasion I sprayed petrol in my eye whilst trying to put it in the car’s petrol tank? (Please note, I wasn’t doing anything as fiddly as filling a petrol can, I actually had the nozzle in the car when I somehow managed to flick it out and spray it in my face instead. Fun times in casualty ensued.) Or perhaps I should tell Lilith about the occasion I turned around to say goodbye to my friend whilst leaving her new shop (a dog grooming parlour, if you were wondering) and smacked the side of my head into the metal shutter. On this occasion I was adamant that I would not be taken to casualty, despite bleeding all over Dumbarton Road, because I was getting married in a fortnight and no way was anyone shaving my hair. Luckily it seemed to fix itself after a little while and I don’t think any scabs fell off during the ceremony.
    But then on Monday a further incident occurred that tops these for ridiculousness. I was out for a run on Monday morning with my dog. We were on the way home, quite happy, when we saw a dog who, whilst being ever so sweet to me, really doesn’t like my dog. Normally she barks at him until we are well and truly out of sight. This time, because we were both going in the same direction, I thought we might be able to sneak past and indeed we almost did. Except that as we drew level she shot out after my dog, darted between my legs and somehow managed to wrap her extendable lead around the top of my calf. My dog had leapt to the full extension of his (non-extendable) lead and she had followed him, leaving me standing on one leg, unable to move and unable to unwrap the lead because it was completely taut. Unsurprisingly, this was rather sore. However, in true stoic dog walker style the dog’s owner wordlessly pulled his dog back, unwrapped the lead and released me. I shrugged, said never mind, and jogged on with the little white dog barking in the distance. I am sporting some rather odd bruises.

    Victoria

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