While working on our house, Betsy tripped and fell and cut her nose. Then today Charlie shut the door of the pickup on his hand, breaking his middle finger and requiring stitches. True to form, she did not complain, and he walked himself home from the ER, stopping only to pick up a bottle of $6 pinot noir. (Betsy did tell him to stop bleeding on our sidewalk when it first happened, but we all had a good laugh about it at dinner.) Bless these people. We owe them big time.
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