![]() I was a conscientious worker, proud to keep the fresh cases looking nice, and I noticed as I was about to remove my apron that the “moonlight mushrooms” were nearly emptied from their endcap display. I wore a green apron and I loved working with the fresh produce, and Charlie had trained me well. It was a Tuesday, and I know this because Charlie, the produce manager, was off on Tuesdays and he had trained me to be his backup for his days off. I was about to clock out and get home to ready myself for an especially important job interview the next day. I was 21 and nearing the end of my long shift in my tiny town’s only grocery store. home for greener pastures here in the South. ![]() I’ve also been remembering a similar, but much worse experience many years ago-one that ultimately resulted in me leaving my upstate N.Y. I’ve been doing my share of all three since my little kitchen accident. There’s still plenty that I can do, including complain (ask Les), pour wine (from a screw-top bottle, anyway) and shop for more clear plastic containers (to hold all the extra kitchen things I don’t really need). In the meantime, I am constantly reminded how much we use even the lesser fingers for everyday essential tasks-including zipping up jeans, latching the seat belt, washing the dishes and using a cimputer keyb0ard (oops, there I go again). Les, who was ironically lamenting just last week that he never gets to cook anymore, is being a sweetheart and picking up my slack. He was good-hearted in his teasing, though, and he fixed me up in no time, with assurance that my finger will be fine-I just need to take it easy in the kitchen for a few days. And of course, he was correct, and that was the reason I had skipped the safety guard in the first place. “Cabbage doesn’t even fit in a mandoline,” Dr. ![]() It is a lesson I should have learned long ago, and one that I promised the doctor at our urgent care facility I would hold dear going forward. Friends, those things have a safety warning (not to mention a perfectly good safety feature) for a very real reason. ![]() But I really didn’t want to deal with having to take so much time to clean it later, and my multi-function mandoline was right over there anyway. If only I had reached for the food processor to handle this task. And as I sipped down the last of my dry martini, happily distracted by two separate texting conversations I was having on my smartphone-one by text and the other by email-I brimmed with confidence because all the prep for our shrimp tacos was done in advance of my husband, Les, walking through the door.Īll, that is, except for shredding the fresh cabbage. I had a lovely homemade ranch dressing that was ready to be spiked with green chiles. The wild-caught American shrimp were thawing in a colander over the sink, ready to be peeled and deveined. My afternoon had been going swimmingly up to that point, as I had just finished making a perfect stack of fresh, handmade corn tortillas for our intended Cinco de Mayo-themed dinner. But as I scrambled this past Wednesday to rip off wads of paper towels to stop the profuse bleeding of my right ring finger, it sure seemed a lot worse. As the Black Knight declared after King Arthur slashed off his entire arm in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, my injury also is “just a flesh wound.” And it is already on the mend. The latest incarnation of the QuickFlick-II is the QFII-AG36D, with the Mark Drela AG36 airfoil and dihedral wingform.First of all, I’m fine. The QFII is an Australian design, originating from inland North Queensland. After numerous prototypes the QuickFlick-II has finally lived up to that dream. The QuickFlick-II was originally designed to be a simple construction balsa built up DLG.
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