[Note to self (and others). Be sure to grind any flattened edges of a striking surface to keep from do it yourself surgery]
It had happened before, not the day before, but a few decades ago. I was at a friend’s house splitting wood and was able to take some some to burn if I helped split a few oaks and maples felled over the years. It was good exercise and I was with Kevin as he hammered a wedge in a 30 inch diameter log. It was the weird Twang I heard and his slowing of his follow through on the sledge that signalled something was wrong. He said, “oh man” and dropped the sledge, as my eyes picked up on the blood beginning to trickle from his left forearm.
It had happened before, not the day before, but a few decades ago. I was at a friend’s house splitting wood and was able to take some some to burn if I helped split a few oaks and maples felled over the years. It was good exercise and I was with Kevin as he hammered a wedge in a 30 inch diameter log. It was the weird Twang I heard and his slowing of his follow through on the sledge that signalled something was wrong. He said, “oh man” and dropped the sledge, as my eyes picked up on the blood beginning to trickle from his left forearm.
As he hit the wedge, a sliver of iron had broken off under the impact and rocketed into his arm. It was a jagged cut and he went to get it removed and the wound stitched, as I kept working on my firewood stash. Not that I wasn’t sympathetic, but it was a one man job and the ex-rugby playing, Sasquatch size Kevin insisted on driving himself.
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Stanley Workhorse |
Fast forward two decades and I am splitting kindling with an old Stanley hatchet and a ball peen hammer. The hatchet was the wedge and the hammer the sledge in this updated version of the earlier tale. Feeling a pinch in my side, I looked down to see blood forming on my shirt. Yes, you guessed it. The impact of the hammer had produced the equivalent of a flechette and it traveled through my shirt and cut my chest. Ok, at this point, I did have a flashback and should have gone through a cause and effect mental exercise. Breaking out the grinder on the octagonal hammer head of the opposite side of the business end of the Stanley hatchet would have kept this from happening but what were the odds of it happening again?. There was a fire to build and my daughter put on a band-aid and I was good to go. Until the next day….In the identical position and splitting more wood. Splitting wood is a zen thing for me and relaxes me, OK grasshopper?
Safety glasses on and swinging hard onto target, I felt my thumb light up in pain. Looking down, I could see the mini missile appearing gunmetal grey under my skin. For some reason, splinters of any and all materials seem to gravitate to me, so I have extensive experience removing them. X-Acto and magnifying glass at the ready. I was operating on my left thumb and I am left handed, so I soon realized that I was in over my head and another set of hands was in order. Post surgery, I was reminded that I needed to do some grinding. It is now back to a smooth octagonal shape.
We all know that a sharp edge is safer than a dull one. Also keep in mind that as we “mushroom” the head of a tool, we need to reshape it for safety.