Whilst slicing enthusiastically into a watermelon for dessert this evening, I managed to open a gaping wound across the pad of my left thumb. This led to a violent stream of colourful piratical expletives and, indeed, blood. I stopped leaping around when I realized I was giving the kitchen a new spatter paint job and decided to do something more constructive, like plunging the offending gash into a pile of white pepper which my mother had thoughtfully dumped onto the kitchen counter.
White pepper is an oft-ignored cure for most of the problems related to lacerations of the flesh. It creates an artificial scab almost instantaneously and disinfects the wound to boot. This is something people always seem surprised to learn -- perhaps because the standard associations one has with pepper aren't exactly in the "soothing cure-all" vein -- but it has proved invaluable on numerous occasions.
On further reflection, a part of me wonders if this wasn't (at least partially) intentional, simply because I've been searching high and low for an excuse to utilize some recently acquired bandagery-based delights. Not that I'll be making a habit of it, because it does hurt (a lot) and it's seriously putting a damper on my latest knitting project, but honestly, who wouldn't be excited to bust out piratical band-aids at a time like this?
That's what I thought.
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