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It’s done!  It’s done!

And it’s the day AFTER my tooth extraction.

My new dentist is probably the best in the entire country.  He is on my Super Star list even though he does his work from an exercise ball.

Because:

  1.  There were no needles to accomplish numbness.
  2.  He was strong and reassuring and explained every step of the way.
  3.  It only took 30 minutes.
  4.  AND THERE WAS NO PAIN!!!!!!   Not during the procedure and not after and not today (the day after).

What more could anyone ask?

  • Well, you might want to have a reassuring dental assistant too.  Ruth Ann is another star in that office and is very sweet and reassuring.
  • And you might want to know if the office is efficient and knows you or remembers you.  Well, I told them once that I had an adverse reaction to epinephrine and they had that on record and didn’t use it!

The whole happy event yesterday reminds me of a (true) story.

Once upon a time I was a substitute teacher for a third grade classroom (for one day).

I had no control and the children literally went wild.  They were so loud they couldn’t hear me begging them to simmer down.

And one red headed little boy locked himself in the bathroom.  I had to call another teacher in for help.

What does this have to do with dentists you ask?  Well, I had an appointment after class.  And I was never so happy to get into a dentist chair!

I know.  My long ago story doesn’t really seem to fit this current extraction episode.  But, actually, it does because it was my first happy dentist-experience and yesterday was my second.

 

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Shadows of the Season

Shadows of the Season 1

Shadows dance to a secret tune

prompted by the play of light upon the green.

Just look!

The world has discarded winter’s gloom

and laid its living carpet for all to see.

 

 

 

 

 

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Maxine attitude

My “to-do” lists are created in all seriousness, with all-serious intentions.

But creating a list is not always the same as fulfilling it.

This was yesterday’s list:

  • Get gas in the car. O.K., so I forgot.  Will get it tomorrow.
  • Mail that bill.  Forgot.
  • Remember to take a cooler bag with ice packs for perishable purchases. Forgot the cooler.
  • Stop at the drugstore for allergy meds and eyedrops. Sent Bill (short for “William.”)
  • Shoe store for comfort sandals. No time.
  • Haircut. Managed that.
  • Gym for a mild workout. Too tired.
  • Stop at the real grocery store for real food.  Sent Bill.
  • Stop at the produce market for fun things that taste good like local peaches and tomatoes. Managed that.
  • Don’t forget to put all that in the cooler bag. No cooler bag.  Drove home fast.
  • Take pictures along the way.  Nope.  Taking time would make the peaches go bad.
  • Visit with people you meet.  Of course.

Somehow I did not feel particularly productive on this day.

But after all the groceries (peaches and tomatoes) were put away, I took a little walk.

No list.

Just a walk.

And  how about this all-in-one list of fulfilled to-do’s?

  • A 30 minute walk added EXERCISE.
  • Thirty minutes in sunshine for VITAMIN D3.
  • Thirty minutes of fresh air in beautiful rural Virginia!
  • STOP-AND-GO PHOTO OPS for next blog post.
  • And, I pulled at least 5 weeds and thinned one zinnia bed in the front garden.

 

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I never tire of the view from our kitchen window here in rural Virginia.

This dawn foretold an oncoming rain storm

and a rainbow that was another missed photo-op.

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My favorite stories are about survival.

Like tales about the plague or hurricanes are just wonderful.

Surely there must be germs of experience in such doomsday revelations to help one through life’s most pressing challenges.

But the latest survival information I discovered is even more direct.  A rather obscure article I read recently gave explicit instructions on imaging to deal with life problems.  Evidently you can think your way into surviving anything by simply writing a thought, shredding it, and then discarding what you wrote!

Doesn’t that make some logical sense?

Presumably, the image of trashing a problem like the plague (after you reduce it to little paper bits) will make the whole thing go away.  I’m sure they never thought of imaging in the days of death-by-plague, but we have definitely come a long way since then haven’t we?

Anyway, as instructed, I now spend 15 to 30 minutes a day writing down every thought and then shredding and discarding each thought, one by one.

The waste basket is full of bits of  note paper .

And in the last few days noticeable patterns emerged.

PATTERNS:

  1. Reminders.

    “Buy milk.”

    “Get graduation cards for J and K.”

    “Call Kit.”

    (Do you see any correlation to eradicating a serious problem in such thoughts? Well I wrote them down anyway and did the dastardly shredding.)

  2. Questions.

    “When will my friend be moving back to this area?”

    “Should I order pot holders online?”

    (So far there have been no subliminal answers. Maybe I am thinking of this exercise like it’s a Ouiga Board.)

  3. Wishes.

    “I wish I had a dog.”

    “Wish I didn’t have to cook dinner tonight.”

    “I wish I was thin.”

    (Now wouldn’t that be something if I could tear up the last wish and begin to lose weight?  I did notice I skipped the after-lunch cookie today!)

CONCLUSIONS:

  • This exercise is fun.
  • I don’t think it has any intrinsic value but will let you know if I ever feel problem free.
  • Maybe the exercise can be tailored to address specific problems.  Like one day you shred only those thoughts that are about wishes.
  • Or maybe it is like writing a letter to Santa, who will read the list and come forth with all the goodies
  • I don’t see any signs that my expected longevity is extended.
  • So much for shredding problems.
  • And so much for survival.

And my last thought was/is in the Reminder category, “Don’t forget to buy a whole bunch of scratch pads because you are running out of shredding-paper.”

Now maybe THAT is a solveable problem except I shredded the reminder and will probably forget what I was trying to remember.

 

 

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cartoon-clock-clip-art-clipart-free-clipart-OFP7yV-clipartI am Afraid of Clocks.

Maybe it is because I missed the second grade class when Mrs. Weinberg taught us how to tell time.

I was an asthmatic kid who could be “absent” for days and happened to be home listening to Stella Dallas on the radio (anyone remember that soap?).

Who knew those few stolen days would be the cause of a lifelong handicap?

Anyway, when I did return to school, Mrs. M gave a private lesson which went like this, “It’s easy.  Just count 5, 10, 15, 20 minutes around the clock.”

And no, I had not yet heard the lyrics to Rock Around the Clock yet.  Elvis may not have even been born!

And from then on, when the big hand made it to the left side, I could not tell you what time it was.

Still can’t.

I tend to simply hold up my wristwatch to strangers who ask, “Pardon me, do you have the time?”

A Clock Allergy?

I think there is something wrong with my blood flow or energy fields.  Inevitably the watch on my wrist winds up (pun intended) to be about 10 minutes fast.  That’s as the big hand goes “5, 10, 15, 20.”

Rushing through life is what I call it.  Think of all the time lost with just those regular ten minute skipped intervals.

And of course, Setting Clocks is a Challenge.

We just had a very brief power outage – enough to make all the timepieces in the house flash in outrage.

The kitchen stove clock is important for making dinners so I inhaled deeply and poked and pushed buttons until there was a positive response.

Hopefully I did not set off the “self clean” option instead.  It’s  always guess work with no guarantees.

The bedroom clock on the dresser isn’t too hard but continues it’s yearly flashing warning “low battery.”  I never listen since that clock is permanently plugged into the wall and the dresser is too heavy to pull it out far enough from the plug.

The bedroom clock on the dresser has been low batteried since 1998.

There is another bedroom clock that flashes on the ceiling and tells how cold it is outside too.  It is the only clock in the house that resets itself except for the battery operated one in the living room that is eternally dependable.

Maybe getting rid of all but the latter two would be the sane thing to do.

Unless you know of a second grade class teacher who would allow a senior citizen to audit the segment on telling time?

Time Changes are Annoying.

The car clock is the MOST intimidating and takes immense courage for me to go at it.  Somehow it gets done (husbands help) but for now I would rather count out loud.

Let’s see….. it’s 10:15 AM on the dashboard, which means it’s really 11:15 AM now because it was 10:15 AM before the time change.

Who needs to change settings anyway?

Good thing the car clock is digital or I would have to be counting,“Five, Ten, Fifteen, Twenty” and if the big hand is in the wrong place you would never get the right time.

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tangled-wood

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naturebuilding-blocks

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27 Year Old Latch

There is a certain sweet familiarity

about rusty old friends

who wobble and groan

and creak and moan

like me.

 

 

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