My Summer, So Far (part 1)

Aside from relaunching my website (So happy you found me again!), here's what I've been up to. When last I checked in, there was a bit of drama concerning my favorite pinky (the one I tension the yarn around, when tension is required):  Thanks, Exercise! That's what I get for drinking the Physical Phitness Kool-Aid.

Here's an artistically-enhanced closeup (humor me - it's my first ever broken bone):

I dutifully reported to the Cast Man.  He told me that the good news was I wouldn't need surgery after all.  And the bad news was I would have to wear an unremovable cast for 3 weeks.  Cast Man didn't really see a downside, even after I explained to him that I had 18 knitting classes to teach in the month of June.  That people had signed up for, months in advance.  He was equally unimpressed that I had a book deadline to meet.  Like, right away.  Frankly, I think the whole concept of "I have to work with my hand right now" was eclipsed in Cast Man's world by notions like "Will she be deformed for life?" or some other such nonsense.  Nothing personal, just a case of divergent priorities.  He had no idea that I am already deformed in ways that only Knitters understand.  Politely ignoring my pleas for leniency, Cast Man called in the expert to immobilize me.  Meet Tony:

Look closely into Tony's experienced and unimaginably kind eyes, and you'll know that I found mercy in an otherwise scary dark alley.  Tony and I agreed that he would use his mad castmaking skills to construct for me, the Brazilian Bikini of casts. By which I mean: A cast that covers only the barest of essentials, and leaves nothing to the imagination.  A cast which lets almost everything hang out.  An indecent sort of cast.  And in exchange, I promised to keep the infernal thing on for the prescribed number of days (hours/minutes).

First, Tony fit my digits with (guess what!) some KNITTED tubes of soft stuff that would protect my tender flesh from the ravages of the cast.  Nice tailoring, Tony!

Then, in the wink of a hummingbird's eye, Tony constructed my Brazilian for me.  It's made of heat-malleable poly-somethingorother, with no plaster involved at all.  The uber-stiff parts surrounding the actual broken bone are made of extra layers of poly-whatever-it-is. It's activated by soaking with hot water, then sculpting by (Tony's) hand, to wit:

Tony carefully wrapped my hand in hot water-soaked (KNITTED!) bandage, molding it exactly to the shape he required.  Note the Egyptian-Mummy criscrosses.  Tony is a (possibly reincarnated) Artiste.  Once cool, the outer bandage was removed, leaving a perfectly rigid Knitter-Imobilizer.  Stiff as a board and twice as ugly.

Once I got home, my associates lent their approval.  Bailey, in particular, appreciated Tony's handiwork.  After that, all I had to do was learn how to knit with only three exposed digits of my dominant hand.  What could possibly go wrong?