Zoë Bowyer

Here is a tale which I hope you will all heed – be very careful when handling sharp knives.

My beloved has got himself a sharp knife for working with wood. I am generally early to bed and D stays up a while whittling sticks. He has been making a bow drill for making fire and was just finishing it off when he managed to cut his finger very badly (I shall not go into details but it was enough to make me say f**k in front of my good-living work colleagues). I was woken up in the early hours by D waving a bandaged finger in front of me. After kissing it better I rolled over and fell straight back to sleep, not one bit concerned that he would probably need stitches.

The next day D took himself to A&E to get some stitches and it turned out that he would need to have surgery on the finger. Yesterday, D and his dad headed off to Belfast to hang around a hospital all day waiting for surgery.

Meanwhile, I decided to take a half day off work and make the most of the long weekend. I got home, had lunch and then took the hounds out for a quick walk around the block. When I got back to the house I realised that I had locked myself out of the house without my phone or any money. I decided to head over to D’s parents house as I knew they had a spare key and I prayed all the way that his mum would be home. Luckily for me she was. Unluckily for me our spare key was in Belfast with D’s dad.

So, I spent the afternoon out shopping with money borrowed from M while she looked after the hounds. I got some dog food, later M fed me and she even drove me out to keep a date with my Granny and then collected me when I was done. She was a star and I was lucky that she was around.

Eventually, it became clear that D would have to stay overnight in hospital and his dad was able to come back and let me into my house.

Naturally, the hounds slept in the bed with me. I was lonely without D.