No one else in my family is. Only me.

I looked it up. According to Merriam-Webster online it became commonly used in the late 1950s in America. It is derived from the Yiddish word, klots which literally means ‘wooden beam’.


I used to laugh this off but as I get older it gets a bit more serious. Like about 15 years ago I was visiting my dad and my step-mother at their house at the beach. She handed me two nested glass bowls that were stuck to un-nest.

Yes. They broke and sliced my finger.


I wrapped it in a paper towel and figured it would stop bleeding. We kept the conversations going. Three hours later it’s still bleeding. There is no nearby hospital or even a doc-in-a-box (urgent care), so they called an ambulance.  For a cut finger. The ER doc gave me 5 stitches.


There have been many more instances, I will spare you. Fast-forward to today. Years ago I learned the hard way I can not use a weed-eater. Not only do I get too close to that whacking string but I beheaded many unsuspecting plants. So whenever I want to edge flower beds I use a garden snip. This works really well but is time-intensive. On a day like today I was happy just to be outside. Even though my area of town did not get the quenching rains so desperately needed, the thunderstorms that passed through last night cleared the hot air and humidity.


So I plopped down in front of the garden stones and clipped the overgrown grass. Lily and Lulu stretched out close by occasionally sniffing the light breeze.


I absent-mindedly commented to Lulu how much the grass had grown, snipping away, hands buried deep when I felt a sharp pain on the same finger I nicked for my step-mother. Drawing it out sure enough a bright red spot bloomed where I actually sliced off a good chunk of skin.


I ran inside, wrapped it in thick paper towels, again, holding it over my head. It finally stopped bleeding to the point where I could put anti-bacterial ointment and bandage it in gauze. It has even stopped throbbing now, so I think I will live.

Maybe I should get a weed whacker anyway. I can always replace the flowers.


Lulu exhausted from the excitement.





21 thoughts on “klutz

  1. Oh my goodness, hope that finger heals fast. I am terrible around sharp instruments but gardening is so peaceful and fun. Beautiful photos, you have a really pretty supply of flowers. I bet your dogs also love spending time out there around all that pretty. Have a great weekend.

  2. In the name of Yeshua, I cancel the curse over Edith. Yeshua took all the curses on his body and Edith is blessed. She is the temple of the living God! No more accidents! Thank you Lord! In Yeshua’s name! Amen!

  3. im also not good with sharp objects.
    even vegetable peelers.
    yes, get the weed eater.
    its defiinitely faster.
    i always get into trouble for chopping away at the young plants that were recently planted into the ground.
    but i always tell them its their fault for planting them in my weedwhackers way.
    so glad ur finger had stopped bleeding.
    and healed enough for u to type a post!

  4. Funny, I always thought “klutz” was from the German “Klotz”, which is a piece of a particularly thick log, really, the kind of thing you place upright and use to chop wood on, “Hauklotz” in full, meaning a Klotz your hit something on. But then again, Yiddish is really a sort of Junk-German, so to speak, with a bunch of French thrown in for good measure, and no offense meant.
    But obsession with languages aside, you surely are in good Klutz-company, looking at the comments above, and counting myself into the lot. In the end I guess we have to laugh about ourselves and try to stay as safe as possible, and go nowhere without a box of bandages. Maybe the occasional warning to well-meaning fellow human beings to not hand us valuable but delicate items is also called for.
    Enjoy your Sunday while growing back your chunk of flesh, and scratch your dogs behind the ears from us by way of greeting. 🙂
    Beautiful photos, too, by the way! And your tomatoes are so far already!! Very promising they look.

  5. And I forgot to mention what I actually was going to say: In German, the word “Klotz” is used particularly for somewhat boorish young men with poor manners around young ladies, indicating that their unpolished manners are due to shyness or lack of practice in dealing with the ladies. The implication is that they are more comfortable working at the Hauklotz splitting wood than in the company of ladies making polite conversation. And really, it isn’t, or wasn’t, used in a mean way because their poor manners should be forgiven since they do not mean to be klutz-y. I find that comforting, too. 🙂

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