Something for Sunday

Dentist Humor

Dentist Humor (Photo credit: MTSOfan)

My dentist is a funny guy.

He is also gentle, efficient, quiet, skilled, calm, and altogether very pleasant.

It is really hard to hate him.

I didn’t intend to go back to see him again so soon, but a chunk of a very old filling came loose so I made an appointment, without having a mild panic attack.  It’s about time I outgrew this fear, wouldn’t you say?  My dentist is not all that scary, after all.  The night before I was scheduled to see him, (and the only good thing about this is the timing) another chunk of another very old filling also broke away from another molar.  My teeth are falling out of my head as we speak.  Or at least I am living with that stupid worry.

As much as I distress myself about all the work that has to be done, I’m very thankful to be in a place and time where it’s all possible and to have dental insurance that will pay for some of it.  The prep work for a permanent bridge to fill in a gap (which I’ve had for years but before now never agreed to have fixed)  has already been done.  Ouch, physically and financially.  Two more visits to completion, including a temporary and then a permanent crown.  I can do this.

He told me I made a good impression.  HAHA!  They took about four of them with that weird pink goop that hardens and sets and feels like it’s never going to come loose without cracking your jaw. He assured me that only a couple of teeth came out with it, no worries.

I came home feeling a bit sorry for myself, had a liquid lunch, took a couple of pain killers and went to sleep.  And after all that I felt a lot better.  I forgave the dental assistant for gagging me with the suction pump, or whatever it’s called.  The freezing came out of my eyeball and my nose.  Frankly I don’t care if they freeze my entire head, but why do dental people always ask complicated questions when your mouth is full of plastic and clamps and pink goop?

So what does all this have to do with Sunday?  Well, nothing really, it’s just what day of the week it happens to be, and the dentist visit happens to be what popped into my head.  And now I would like to pop it right back out again and listen to something that has nothing to do with drills and bridges and bibs around the neck.

There have been many covers of this song, but nobody comes close to Etta James.  Enjoy, and have a lovely lazy Sunday.

Just Jazyy 150

“The future came and went in the mildly discouraging way that futures do.” Neil Gaiman

(from Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch)   

jazzy bugs 001

Better deal with whatever is bugging you now – today – don’t put it off until tomorrow. The longer you wait for your perfect future, the shorter it will be.

Why MacBeth is a Tragedy

The Three Witches from Shakespeares Macbeth by...

************

Wow, great fire.

Awesome bubbling caldron.

Where’s the hell broth recipe?

Wait, why’s our mother here?

It says Witches’ mummy, not mommy, you weirdo.

Man, this prophecy thing is hard to get right.

********

trifecta button

Trifextra, Week 87:  33 of your own words about a famous trio. The trio could be from literature,
from history or from pop culture. Just make it yours and have fun with it.

Love Letter to My Life

From Therapy Room on Facebook

From Therapy Room on Facebook

Dear Life of Mine,

I don’t know what I’d do without you.  Well, I guess deep down I do know that without you there would simply be no me.  That would suck.  I know sometimes I say that YOU suck, but of course I don’t mean it.  Not really.

Mostly I love you to pieces.

I love you when you’re busy and crazy and tell me to hurry up, but I love you more when you’re laid back and mellow and lazy. I love how you make me breathe the air, see and touch and hear and know the incredible beauty of all the other lives around me.

I love that you are funny and strange and complicated.  I love your ups and downs and detours.  I love your crazy joy.  I even love your sadness.  Your bad bits teach me to embrace and appreciate your happy side and all the good things that fill you up and make you so worth living.

I love that you are beautiful and good.  Sometimes I think you’re hard, but then I look around and see others who are not so lucky and not so blessed.

I am so very grateful to have you. I know how fragile you are, and I try every day to do the right things so that you’ll be around for a long, long time.

I know one day we’ll have to part.  But let’s not let fear and worry kill the fun we’re having in each small moment, okay?  I know you will always give me a kick in the ass when I need it and that’s okay. I will still love you with all my heart.  And all my might. For however long we have together.

I love you, my wonderful life, no matter how you may change in the blink of an eye; right here, right now, just the way you are.

********************************************

Prompts For The Promptless:  Sometimes called a billet-doux, or a love letter, a love note is a personal letter to a loved one expressing affection.  The loved one does not necessarily have to be animate, human, alive, or known.

Weekly Writing Challenge:  Blogging Events

A Fork Tale

Daily Prompt: 

Write a post about anything you’d like, but be sure to include this sentence somewhere in the final paragraph:

“He tried to hit me with a forklift!”

***********

Clifton Carmichael is a dutiful son.  He goes to visit his 89-year-old mother in the seniors residence every day and patiently listens to all her complaints.angry

The food is terrible here.  Everything is mush.  The coffee is like dishwater.  And those caregivers!  Why do they always mumble and never speak up.? And they don’t listen either.  I tried to tell them that some of my best articles of clothing have been lost by the facility laundry.  Anybody could be wearing my things!  I wanted to keep a look out for them but someone has gone off with my good glasses too.  I don’t think I’m wrong to strongly suspect that old coot, Ernie.  You remember Ernie?  They’ve forced me to share a table with him in the dining room and he is downright cantankerous and extremely unpleasant.  I have no idea why.  I try to be nice, I surely do, but I do not like him, not one little bit.  Why, just the other day he rudely disrupted dinner by waving his cutlery around at me in a very menacing manner.  Clifton, are you listening to me? 

Hmmm…?  Of course mother.  Ernie.  Are you getting along any better with Ernie now?

He tried to hit me with a fork, Clift!

A forklift?  Mama, don’t be ridiculous.  And don’t fret, nobody could get a forklift past the security doors.

A fork, Clift.  FORK!  FORK!  FORK!

Mother,  please!  Shush – such language!  You’ve imagined the forklift.  I’ll get the nurse to give you something to calm your nerves.

Get her to give something to that Fork King, Ernie, why don’t you? He’s the villainous silverware fiend!  Oh, never mind.  Nobody listens to me.  Go home Clifton.  I can look after myself.

Yes. Yes, alright.  I do believe you can.

Clifton Carmichael sighs as he gets up and kisses the top of his mother’s silver head.  Forklifts in the dining room.  Good God, he thinks as he bids her goodbye, what next?

The Joy of Being Booked

fall reading

Photo Credit “Eat Sleep Read”

Prompts For The Promptless Approach-approach conflict is the psychological conflict that results when a choice must be made between two desirable alternatives.

Oh for a life filled with nothing but approach-approach conflicts!  Should I read a book or take a nap?  Pick up an actual paperback or flip open my Kindle?  Read inside or outside? Or upside down?

I think I was born to read.  Time on my own with a book is one of this life’s greatest pleasures. I’m always just one good book away from an excellent mood.

Books are time travelling magic and sometimes it’s hard to start a new book when I’m still living in the last one.  And sometimes it’s equally hard to read just one book at a time.  I will be in the middle of something when I decide to download the next great read, and then I’m impatient to get into that as well.  Often I have three open books in three different places and my kindle collection in hand.  My head is full of delicious choices.

What authors mind and voice and soul will speak to me today?  Decisions, decisions.

From "Therapy Room by Joanna Cross" page on Facebook

From “Therapy Room by Joanna Cross” page on Facebook

The Second Cup

image

(From All the Ways Things Are on Facebook)

As much as I love that first cup of freshly brewed coffee on a Sunday morning, the second cup is even better.

While the coffee brewed this morning I suddenly decided to clean out my junk drawer.  I honestly can’t remember what sparked that burst of ambition, but I do know that if this happened more often it wouldn’t have to be such a time-consuming and complicated job.  Its current state seemed to warrant dumping the entire contents on the kitchen table.  Once that’s done there is no turning back.  This doesn’t mean I finished making sense of the mess (because it’s not done yet, 13 hours later) just that it will have to be dealt with eventually if I ever want to use the kitchen table again.

So that first cup of coffee had to compete with junk drawer sorting, a quick shower, hair drying, Facebook checking and e-mail perusing.  Insanity. Coffee should be savoured, not gulped down in amongst random morning tasks. And in case you think it’s amazing that I limit my coffee to two cups, you should see how gigantic my favourite mugs are.  They don’t hold half a pot of coffee, but close enough.

So I sat down in the living room to enjoy the second cup doing absolutely nothing.  Ha.  That’s not exactly true.  Unless playing Candy Crush on my I-pad is a big fat nothing. Which many people would agree it is.

Then I had a great visit with a former co-worker/friend who is in the process of landing another better job and has asked me to one of her references.  Made me realize yet again how much I miss her smiling face and the amazing person she is and always was to work alongside.  But life goes on and everything changes. We got each other caught up on the latest developments.  Two more people are leaving my workplace.  Perhaps it’s something I said.  And I’m wondering if I can stick it out for this last year before retiring next September.

Imagine all the second cups I’ll be able to consume at my leisure when my working days are done.  If all that caffeine doesn’t kill me first.  I would like to at least get all my pens, paper clips, elastic bands and rolls of tape in order before that happens.