Head Banger

This last week end was our celebration of thanksgiving.  We try to hold it yearly.  For us, it is a good excuse to do heaps of preparation and have the place looking spiffy.
Merril and I set aside days to do certain things.  One day was dedicated to cleaning the back of, and putting down carpet.  Another day was dedicated to Merril cooking, while I did the yard.  We have a hidden path that I am really glad I went down.  There were spiders’ webs across the path.  That was before I arrived.  After that, they were not there.  Turns out though, no one went down the path.  I was really glad to have done it though.  I would have hated someone to emerge with a spider and web across their face.
Something happened while I was in the yard that seemed bad, but good came of it.  I was moving a tree in a pot.  Unbeknown to me, the tree and the top of my head tried to occupy the same space at the same time.  I came off second best.  There was blood everywhere.  I went inside and changed the colour of a tissue.
It was after the bleeding had stopped that I made a discovery.  I had a growth on my head that just would not go away.  It was something I intended seeing the doctor about.  It was like many things, once discovered my hand gravitated to it all the time.  It had grown.  I knew that because when I took off my shirt it would interact with it.
After I hit my head, I discovered it was no longer there!  Perhaps it is on a tree somewhere, but I really do not care, as it is no longer on me.
Hitting my head is bad.  The result was good. Of course I would never want to hit my head, or would deliberately go out of my way to do it.  Ok for some music I am a bit of a head banger, but that is more figurative.  However I do marvel at the outcome of this.  Fair dinkum, the only way I imagined that thing being gone, was for me to have it surgically removed.  There was another way though.  It is not something I had thought of.  It is not like I though “how will I get rid of this thing?  Oh I know, I will bang my head against a tree.”  I do not think my right hand is pleased though.  It goes to my head as before, and finds nothing except the usual bumpy surface.
I saw something on Facebook recently about a farm lad that broke his leg.  The neighbour said, oh that’s bad.  The army then came around looking for conscripts.  The lad was rejected because of his broken leg.  The neighbour said oh that’s good.
No matter which way I look at it, hitting my head is bad.  By the same token, no matter which way I look at it, having the growth gone is good.  Thankfully, sometimes what is seen as bad, turns out to be good.