And The Man Said to The Bartender...

"I asked for a Strawberry Daiquiri, not a Bloody Mary!"

It's a terribly obvious way to open this story of happenstance, best told in "becauses," I guess...

Because the bank is owned by the same principle investor who founded our newspaper, we chose Riverside Bank for all of our banking needs when we came to town.

Because we opened new accounts, we each got a free smoothie maker.

Because we are dedicated Hometown News employees, on Saturday we volunteered for a couple of hours at the Habitat for Humanity's Strawberry Festival, which the newspaper cosponsored.

Because they were there, we bought a flat of strawberries for $16.

Because we had a flat of strawberries, Mary decided to make Strawberry Daiquiris.

And because of all of that, we spent two hours in the emergency room Saturday night.

For the record, I got one Strawberry Daiquiri before all hell broke loose. These smoothie makers are like miniature blenders, each creating a delicious individual serving. The container broke and strawberries and rum and ice cubes went flying. As Mary reached for the cord to end the melee with her right hand, her left thumb came in contact with the spinning blender blades.

It took nanoseconds for the kitchen to be transformed into a bloody, berry nightmare.

Mary was remarkably calm. So calm, I sensed nothing was TOO wrong. We wrapped what was left of the thumb with paper towels and departed for the emergency room. The bleeding had been pretty much stemmed by the time we arrived.

It took two hours to get three stitches and a tetanus shot. Luckily, I came across one of Mary's favorite movies as we waited: "North by Northwest." It made the improbable Saturday night seem slightly less horrible. I doubt she'll ever hear Cary Grant say "I've got a job, a secretary, a mother, two ex-wives and several bartenders dependent upon me, and I don't intend to disappoint them all by getting myself slightly killed" without recalling the "Strawberry Smoothie Incident," as we have come to call it.

While there appeared to be no nerve damage, the doctor declared an end to Mary's burgeoning thumb-wrestling career. By Sunday, when we changed the bandage, the wound looked better. Mary was soon back on her feet, responding to my every beck and call...

Me? I'm fine. (Hey, this is "Mark's World" and it's fair for me to presume that you might have some genuine concern for how "Mark" fared.) I did spend some time Saturday night de-strawberrying the kitchen. A chunk of flesh lost in the mess was not recovered.

Now, we are stuck with 7/8's of a flat of strawberries. It's a fair bet we won't be using the remaining smoothie maker for this or any other berry blend... Any good strawberry recipes out there? Nothing involving chopping or pureeing, please...

More later,



Mark