What is it? Mine? In a storm of biblical proportions, and having a 'robopoo' imminent (The sort where you get 9 seconds to comply) having dashed out of a bothy, spade in one hand, rapidly disintegrating bog roll in the other, jacket flapping wildly, I quickly turned over the earth, dropped em, and let go. Into the hood of my nearly new berghaus. I suspect it would have been less heroic if I'd put the hood up afterwards, but thankfully I didn't. The jacket spent the night in the stream, and is still giving good service. Alternatively whilst building my new garage, I ascended the ladder for the last time of the day, did what I had to, and stepped from the top of the wall, back onto the ladder. Which moved sideways, not being tied on and all. I fell forwards onto the roof, wildly scrabbling for grip, found none, and slipping over the edge of the roof, I pushed myself away from the building, turned through 180 degrees and landed. Face down, 10 feet below where I'd started. Nose and teeth were a bit sore, so I ran my tongue over the teeth to check for unpleasant, painful, and no doubt expensive breakages, but happily found none. I then brought a hand up to check if my nose was bleeding / broken, and indulge me if you will. Close your eyes and tough your nose with your index finger. I bet you get within an inch of the tip. I couldn't. I really couldn't. I couldn't find my face with my whole right hand. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked. My hand, although attached to the rest of me, was in a new and rather jaunty place, an inch above and behind where it should have been, and inclined back at about 45 degrees. My mate, having heard the commotion came out, whereupon I told him I'd broken my wrist. I then looked to my left, and corrected myself. I told him I'd broken both my wrists. There followed an ambulance ride, many many drugs (the best being good old laughing gas) doctors, X rays, more doctors, a 4 1/2 hour operation, 4 more days in hospital, 2 weeks of being absolutely incapable, someone putting food in one end of me, and dealing with what came out of the other (Mercifully infrequent, another benefit of opiates) and another 6 weeks of being catastrophically bored, yet glad of the rest, whilst all the while being incredibly angry with my stupidity and frustrated. Those 6 weeks came to an end a year ago today, and apart from a slight weakness in the left wrist, I'm getting on OK. (I know that building a garage doesn't seem bushcrafty, but it is almost 100% timber, albeit cut to size in the builders yard) What're yours?