Catch y’all laters.
Catch y’all laters.
Yesterday was not a good day! – After an hour at the dentist, where I got my front tooth fixed, and nearly had a heart attack when I got the bill, I drove straight into a traffic jam, at 1.30 pm! Road works on the freeway! (Now, these were the roadworks I was expecting on the way to the dentist, as I’d run into them the last two times I’d been that way. But nope, the lanes were free and I arrived 20 minutes early for my appointment! So I sat in my car and did crossword puzzles.)
Still, not too bad? Yeah, I was recovering; having hugged my dogs and posted my blue skies photo.
Later in the day, after I’d walked and fed the dogs, I thought I’d do a bit of gardening quickly, and hack back some of the side vines to put in the big rubbish bin (wheelie).
Now, in South Africa (well the Western Cape for sure), people go round the streets in the dark of night and rifle through your rubbish bin, which you’ve already put outside on the street for collection the next day, because the refuse guys usually come before 7 am. There is nothing of use in my bin, as we recycle everything, but if I ever do have something that I have not already taken to a charity shop, then I put it on top for the guys.
When my parents were visiting here from the UK, years ago, and we were going out one night on rubbish night, my Dad whispered to me, “There’s someone going through your rubbish.” I’m like, “Yes, of course.” We are so used to it that you forget it is not usual in all countries.
Well, I don’t mind them going through my bin. But I do mind that they open and empty every packet and the bin gets very smelly, and there is rubbish on the street for me to pick up in the morning. One way round this is to fill up my bin with garden refuse. I do this every week. Only this week I hadn’t had a chance, because my right thumb was extremely sore, red and swollen at the base joint; my dog, Little Monkey, in her inexhaustible exuberance, had sprained it and I couldn’t do any gardening.
So, since my thumb was much better now, I decided to go out and cut some vines to fill up the bin. I fished around for my gardening gloves on the floor and then was looking for the good shears, when my left index finger got “stung”. I jumped back, only to find the large hack saw attached to my finger-pad by its nasty sharp interlocking teeth.
(I usually keep the hack saw blade wrapped in cardboard, so I don’t know what happened there. Yes, it is in thick cardboard now!!)
There was quite a hole ripped in the pad of my finger, and blood spurting everywhere. By the time I’d sorted that out I decided the bin could go out as it was. And looking at blue skies, hugging my dogs and breathing wasn’t going to work any more.
So I poured myself a large Pernod on the rocks! Cheers!
post script: If I had any computer skills at all, I would have removed the telephone line from the sky photo above!
I inherited a lot of things from my father; some good, some not so good. I have his forehead and retroussé nose, a tiny amount of his maths and musical talent, his charming personality (ahem), his gammy feet and teeth!
Yesterday, I was sitting in my car at the local shops, having some water and an energy bar – when my front tooth fell out!
I looked at it lying in my lap for a moment, and thought, OK not too bad, the dentist can just glue it back in. But further inspection revealed the tooth had snapped off at the root and there was nothing to glue it on to.
I am a little like “Pollyanna” and always try to find the best in any situation, but I must admit, I was battling a bit here. I looked like Goofy!
Yes, I know; Vanity, thy name is Scifi!
Luckily, I had an appointment booked at my dentist for today, for a prior problem, so could get it sorted at once. But now my visits to the dentist are backing up! Looks like my birthday present this year will be the same as last year – teeth!
I have just come back from an hour and a half at the dentist, feeling very sorry for myself and like my face has just been run over by a steam-roller. I looked for some sympathy from my dogs. Mr Spaghetti Legs is comatose on his mats and Little Monkey is too busy looking for mischief to notice me.
And it is a l-o-o-o-o-n-g time till sun-downers!!