We're beginning to worry that this house is haunted. We've only been here a few weeks and the injurries are piling up like October leaves. First week here, Claire cuts her wrist and has to go to the urgent care centre when a glass pitcher shatters mysteriously. That weekend, I smash my thumb in a jammed window that suddenly comes unjammed. Then tonight, while removing the cork from a wine bottle, the neck of the bottle shatters in my hand and slices my left pointer finger up requiring stitches. So, I'm typing this with one hand.
Anyway, that was the first few weeks. So, if we go digging in the garden and find the ancient Indian burial ground, we'll let everyone know.