The Trail of Tears

Did you know there are 2 "Trail of Tears"? This second one is on our property, not out west. And it is more like the "Trail of Blood" then "Trail of Tears", and it was established in 2010, not 1838, and Timothy made this one, not the Cherokees.

It came into existence yesterday. Timothy was outside, barefoot, as usual, enjoying the beautiful spring weather. He was down by the climbing tree, and stepped on a large piece of glass. He walked around the backyard, up the deck to get me, down the deck stairs, around the front of the house in the mudroom door, and into the apartment to the bathroom; leaving a puddle of blood with each step, and a whole pool on the bathroom and shower floors.

It was pretty deep, but not too wide cut, so after we got it to stop bleeding, Dad cleaned it up, wrapped it up with a tee-shirt, and sent a search party to the store for butterfly bandages. Sandra doctored it up when they got home. It was fine for the first hour, but when Timothy "hobbled" on it without thinking, it broke open, and spread several whole new puddles of blood on the bathroom floor. (Guess who was the indoor clean-up crew yet?)

Timothy took full advantage of his "invalid" state to watch movies all afternoon.
It was interesting trying to keep his foot elevated to stop the blood. As you can see, we improvised with a laundry basket, boxes, and occasionally people.

You would have thought that Dad's episode in January would have been enough blood for the year; apparently Timmy was trying to out do him.