So a few years ago I visited my aunt Helen's cabin for a week during the summer. Adjacent to the cabin was a lovely lake. That was filled... with leeches. It was at the lake that I got this.



Yes, right on my knee. It is smaller now than it was, thanks to my auntie. She is apparantly really good at closing up injuries to minimize scarring. Nevertheless, I still got one.

On her lake she had one of those floating docks way out in the water, the kind you have to swim to in order to jump off of. Me and the friends I had made while there were swimming around in the leechy lake. I don't understand why this happened, because I had been using the dock for a while, and everything was fine. The dock had other plans however.

Apparantly it felt that I had done it a great personal wrong, because as I was climbing up the metal ladder to jump off again, my knee got sliced open by a sharp piece of metal on the ladder. How do you cut yourself on the EDGE of a ladder, I ask you?



So there I was, on the dock with blood dribbling down my leg, and I knew one thing; there was no WAY I was swimming back to shore with an open wound through that incredibly leechy lake. With all the leeches. And leeches.

So my friends were nice and brought over one of those floating bed things which I flopped onto and paddled over to shore. I can imagine that I was quite a spectacle, because even though my friends were concerned, I could see they were struggling not to laugh at my antics.

The cool thing about my scar is that every time I stretch out my leg, the scar folds upward, like so...



When it does this it reminds me of a mountainous ridge.