Work-Related Injuries

Asbestosis, pneumoconiosis and silicosis are 3 horrible work-related lung diseases.  Swapping the work-place to become a stay-at-home mum, I’ve now put myself at high risk of a 4th one: glitterosis.

The offending glitter art… beautiful, sparkly, but deadly! Yep, every single bit of colour here is from glitter. Tons of the stuff…

I’m only half-kidding.  My chest has been feeling sore and tight for a day or 2 now.  This morning I gave an almighty cough and checked what went ‘splotch’ into my hanky: a little patch of pink glitter.  The bloody stuff is inside all 5 of us, going by what I was cleaning in the toilets: the bog-brushes now sparkle faintly.  I’ve banned Maxi Minx from playing with glitter till the weekend until my chest clears or I can sneeze without looking like a fairy exuding fairy-dust.  It’s all the fault of those blasted cold germs that have kept Mini and Midi up and restless all night every night, and therefore me and The Boss more sleep-deprived than usual, and hence most of our activities this past weekend and 2 school in-service days being indoors.  Indoor activities = crafting = glue and glitter to my 3.

Me clearing away the arts & crafts stuff before dinner
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This evening I stepped on what I thought was an empty pen lid.  “Och well,” I thought, more than a little gleefully as I bent to pick it up: “One more craft thing in the bin, one less thing cluttering the house”.  As I got closer I realised that it was a little phial of purple glitter, the really awful, miniature fleck metallic that gets *everywhere*.  “Noooooooo!” I yelled, arms windmilling in slow motion like in a disaster movie.  I’m hoovering the floors twice a day this week just to try to control the spread of the evil stuff.  I binned my sock rather than attempt to clean the glitter off – that would only have made the sodding particles airborne.  If only Fuller’s Earth and ‘blot, bang, rub’ worked on glitter…

Talking of work-related injuries, last week a shiny new noticeboard was erected in the school playground.  It looks excellent, there’s plenty of room to put up notices where people can read them – brilliant.  I know that the original plan had been to get it erected during the school holidays so it wouldn’t cause any inconvenience.  Unfortunately the company erecting the noticeboard obviously have somebody over a barrel, because they were merrily drilling away into the tarmac playground, a few feet away from the main gate, at 8.55 on a Tuesday morning.  Such a shame that they couldn’t have started at 9.05, when all the kids would have been out of the playground.  Or even taken a 10 minute break from 8.55 to 9.05.  I’m guessing that their risk assessment (the one that made them take action against the risks to themselves by wearing eye protection and ear defenders) will also have covered the possibility of children breezing past the solitary teacher watching over the work, mesmerised?  Perhaps the risk of flying debris was too low for it to be a risk to anyone except a workie?  Obviously it was all actually as safe as houses.  Must have been, to be taking place there and then.  Mustn’t it..?

Risk assessments: I carried out my own, and decided that the risk to my mental health staying indoors was far greater than the risk of Mini’s very bad cold turning to something worse.  So the minute The Boss walked through the door late Sunday afternoon from work, I called an About Turn and we all set off to go leaf stomping in some local oak woods.  Probably my sole good decision this week!  It was a real treat to go marching and kicking the thick carpet of copper crunchies.  I love the smell of leaf mould!  Mini seemed a bit reticent about swishing through the leaves, but then I suppose it pretty much covered her to the knees.  Midi was having a bit of a lazy afternoon, so decided she wanted to go in the sling.  Typically I only had a tiny, lightweight cotton one with me, or Mini.  Tall, heavy Midi was surprisingly comfy, I sure as hell was not!  I bent over to take some close-up photos of some holly berries and discovered Over-Extended Knee Failure with an extra 3.5 stone on your back.  The indignity of having to ask your husband to come over and help hoist you up… “I’m stuck”, I hissed between clenched teeth. “Help. But be subtle!  And for God’s sake don’t let Greenpeace see you, or they’ll roll me back into the sea”.  Aye, I’ve decided to drop the cake-habit as of tomorrow.  More leaf-kicking and less chocolate munching will make me a far less grumpy old trout, even if I don’t get enough sleep.


2 thoughts on “Work-Related Injuries

    • Hehehe, my commiserations 😉 About 200 years ago when I was a kid, I did too. I think I’ve just breathed in too much of it now – it’s really lost its sparkle

      (badoom-tish, ayehtangooberymuchI’mhereallweek)

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