Yesterday M started building the patio wall. I went out to help for a little while. M gave me the job of striking the joints. No, not that kind of joint, you sillies.
From the Stone Glossary:
Strike: Cut off with a trowel the excess mortar at the face of a joint. Also known as ‘struck joint.’
The tool I used (pictured above) was not a trowel. It is called a jointer. The joint is the space between the bricks, and striking (or jointing) is done to finish or smooth the mortar before it hardens. At least I think that’s what it is. If there are any masons out there reading this, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.
A not-so-funny thing happened on my way out to help. I was carrying Izzy (one of the cats) out for her roll around on the flagstone. As I stepped out the back door I must have mis-stepped as I twisted my ankle and went falling to the ground. Poor Izzy was so freaked out she didn’t think to run away. Instead she ran towards the door, begging to be let back inside. I’m fairly certain I didn’t break anything. It’s probably a sprain. I will try to rest it for a few days and see how it goes. Ice and elevation have kept the swelling down and compression helps when I’m hobbling around. I would like to avoid x-rays as I just had x-rays done on Tuesday of my left thumb (probably arthritis causing the swelling and pain) and my right knee (training for a 5k injury and the swelling keeps on keeping on). I’ll be radioactive soon if this continues.
I have been very klutzy lately. More so than usual. I wonder if it’s because I spent the month of May looking up? Perhaps I better spend the month of July looking down so I can see where I’m going.
(The floor of the kitchen at night.)