Pass the gunpowder, I’ve got a wound to cauterize.

Sounds painful, don’t it?

When cowpokes did it out on the trail in the Westerns there was no doubt that it hurt. Those leathered faces would grimace and spit at the life-saving tactic but would almost always survive to the end of the film.

Yesterday, I had to throw some gunpowder on an old, old wound freshly opened and seeping all kinds of foul stuff.

Apologies for not blogging but nobody wants to see me grimace and spit. Trust me.

Ok, roll the film. A long, happy trail is ahead.

Until tomorrow…


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