Update...

So one would not think that as a lefty, losing the use of one's right thumb is such a problem, but I can tell you it is...

So, apparently swinging a hammer at a nail while perched precariously at the edge of a semi-high stone wall means you better have good aim! Thought I merely hit the thumbnail, soldiered on through the ouch, proudly surveyed the repair work on the compost bin and proceeded to refill the compost with the pitchfork. Until I saw the blood on my thumb. "Hmm, that doesn't look good." Head into the bathroom to wash it off, and once the water hit it, I realize a huge chunk was 3/4 ripped off and the water flapped it back. Well, I nearly fainted, Millie quizzically sniffing me while I cool off on the cold tile floor in the kitchen. Guzzled some OJ, and worked my way to the couch. Hubby comes home from the Canal tour and I get the "I can't leave you alone for 2 hours" talk - which is true; I am accident prone. But Millie was supposed to watch me and she took a nap... The thumb is throbbing and I stuck the piece back where it belongs - no ER for me this time. Just lots of cream and a big bandage.

But...

The compost bin is fixed. The bush was moved. Didn't get to move the leaves or turn over the dirt but I trimmed the lilac, last of the roses, sage, and butterfly bush. All before the boo boo.

So the lesson my dear students... do as I say, not as I do and watch the hammer's point of contact.