How Not to Swing a Hammer

Mike is building a deck for his brother and one of the things needing to be done was to set paving stones where the steps come down. To do that without renting a packer for just a dozen stones, Mike would set one where he wanted it, hold a block of wood on top of it, and then pound the wood with a hand-held 3-pound sledge hammer with all his might.

He was setting the last stone and didn't notice that he'd shifted his hold on the block of wood from hanging onto the sides to holding it down with his thumb on top.

You can follow the natural progression that makes such good blogging material and disgusting pictures. He said it was fortunate that he'd already had one set of stairs in place or he may not have made it into the house. He did make it in, stretched out on the couch, and refused to let anyone come anywhere near except his mom to give him four Advil and a glass of water.

He came home about an hour later and I alternated Tylenol and Advil every two hours until late that night when it started bleeding and relieved the pressure.


He so thoroughly exploded every capillary in his thumb that it's a blackish color, still bleeding nearly twenty-four hours later, and the thumbnail is pretty much separated from the bed.

I was telling a teenage friend of Cameron's what had happened and remarked that this will be about the fifth or sixth time he's lost that thumbnail with all the carpentry work he's done. This Wise Guy, with a wicked gleam in his eye and grin on his face softly commented, "Must not have been all that good a carpenter..."