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| finger glued to easel repair, note sheds of toilet tissue also stuck |
This time, it was the glue in a tube that bonds almost instantly and definitely permanently, in most cases. I used it just the other day to glue the heel back on a pair of flats I like. Hey, the top part of the shoe you polish was still in great shape, so why not? Hmm. I just realized I didn't have my glasses on when I declared the shoes to be in great shape and unscuffed. Perhaps I need to reexamine, this time with four eyes, as they cruelly used to say. Anyway, I was quite proud of myself for not getting glue anywhere except where it was supposed to be. Again, no glasses. I'd better check that out, too. The best part is that, so far, the glue is holding on the heel.
Now, to today's misfortune. As we used to say to our kids, "So long as there's no blood or bone, tough it out." I confess, there was no blood or bone, making this less than an accident and more of a bother. This time, I was trying to glue the easel to a pretty frame where it had pulled out of the back. The reason I like this perfect frame is it holds a darling picture of our Ava dressed as a princess. With flowers all around her sweet face, it makes for a darling combination.
I am aware fingers and instant glue do not go well together. Correction. They actually do if you want to carry your granddaughter's framed photograph with you everywhere you go. While, I am not adverse to that, it was a bit of an inconvenience when I glued my first finger to the metal easel as I was applying pressure to make certain there was good contact. Was there ever. Additionally, the lucky digit was on my left hand. Since I'm left handed and eat, brush my hair and teeth and type with that particular hand, it made for scribbles, starvation, a rat's nest on my head and, of course, no imparting of tales of any kind to you good people reading this.
So there I was, dampening toilet paper with nail polish remover. I thought I had heard of this working somewhere, long ago. The life of wet toilet paper is short lived. All I manged to do was leave scraps of the stuff caught on the metal easel part. Then I Googled it. They suggested nail polish remover and/or using a knife to peel away the flesh. I think it was meant in the kindest and safest way, but it didn't appeal to me. Back to the nail polish. This time, I used a q-tip or tried to. You see, to make sure I got complete saturation of the cotton nub, I dipped it far down into the half full alcohol bottle. Then I dropped it all the way in, by accident. Remember, I'm doing all this with my right, sometimes less than completely co-ordinated hand. So where is hubby Bruce, you might ask. He's grocery shopping. Thank goodness. He is sometimes less than helpful in situations like this. It has always been my policy to tell the tale after the fact because one can shade it to one's benefit. (wink, wink)
Before I returned to the master bathroom for more q-tips, accompanied by constant companion, the frame, I decided to take a photograph so you will believe that these things certainly do happen to me. My smart phone is so smart, I tell it to shoot, and it does! Of course, the timber of my voice must be in the tone and with the accent it accepts. I found myself having to shout, "Shoot, shoot, shoot!!!", so often, I expected the swat team to break through the windows at any moment.
On the second try, I dabbed, I rubbed, I finally saturated the glue sufficiently to free my finger! Hey, Edward Scissor-Hands. Look me up. Perhaps I can help you out.
