Tooth Extraction Aftermath: Not 'as Advertised.'

So far, getting my upper left premolar removed has been quite anticlimactic. Preparations and take-home literature led me to expect pain, bleeding, and swelling: and so far there's been precious little.

One of my kids helpfully observed that pain hit the day after the procedure, when he got his teeth straightened: so I suppose there is still hope.

On the other hand, I don't actually need to experience pain this week.

A bit more seriously, the process went very smoothly. And I'm already noticing a lack of an unpleasant taste. The tooth in question had developed an infection around the root - no big deal by itself, but not something I wanted to ignore.

Happily, all I needed was a local anesthetic. Catherine drove me home, anyway. When I pointed out that I didn't really need a 'designated driver' for the trip back from St. Cloud, she said something like "yeah, right," and kept walking toward the driver's side of the van.

Having a break from driving was nice. I could let my attention wander, and enjoy the passing landscape without worrying anyone.

Good News - or - The Bright Side of Breaking a Tooth

About a week ago, part-way through Fortnight For Freedom and the local freedom rosary, I broke a tooth: one of the molars on the upper left side. It didn't hurt all that much, which is a good thing: this happened at the start of a weekend.

'Dr. Jim,' as the family calls Dr. Wachlarowicz, determined that what was left of the tooth could be salvaged - which isn't the way he put it. About a third of the tooth was gone, but what was left had a good anchorage - again, not the way he put it. I set up an appointment for a day in July, and life went on.

Last night, while cleaning my teeth, a loose filling in that broken tooth came out. Friday night, with the entire weekend ahead.

A few more pieces, and I'll have a 3-D puzzle. July 7, 2012.

Good news: that tooth still doesn't hurt, and it's actually easier to keep clean now. Even more good news: this break happened before repair work started. As an added bonus: I now have the start of a sort of 3=D puzzle.

I get what's left of the tooth attended to on Thursday of this week. I'm looking forward to that.

An almost-related post:

• "Planned Power Outage, Lots of Quiet, and Me"
  (June 28, 2012)
• "Fortnight For Freedom Wrapup: Photos and Weather"
  A Catholic Citizen in America (July 4, 2012)

So That's What My Chin Looks Like!

Yesterday I said I was going to trim my beard, tomorrow. Today is yesterday's tomorrow, and I trimmed it.

I got smart, and used the same trimmer my wife uses on me: a sort of electric razor with a set of (brushes?) that hold the cutting surfaces a (fairly) fixed distance from the skin.

I think she used the 1/8th inch brush yesterday. I asked her, by the way, and learned that she didn't remember which one she used: she just 'grabs one' and starts cutting.

That might explain a few things.

For the beard trimming, I chose the 1/4" 'brush,' to more-or-less match the rest of my hair. That's a lot closer than I can get it, using my fingers and a scissor.

Anyway, I finished trimming the beard, and had an impressive pile of white, gray and brownish-black hair in the kitchen sink. The bathroom sink isn't available: but that's another story.

Then my wife comes around the corner, takes one look at me, and starts laughing.

Nervously.

She's never seen me with a beard this short. Neither have I, for maybe a third of a century.

Now, several hours later, my wife, our son, and #3 and #1 daughters agree: I look - different.

They're right, you know.

A Mouse? A Really Big Mouse?

I got finished with my tasks a bit late yesterday. Fridays are challenging, sometimes, since one of my 'creative' blogs has a post due then. And, as often happens, I had nothing in the net when I trawled my imagination until rather late. So I wrote about ducks.

The rest of the family was quite sensibly in bed by that time and the lights were out on the 1st (ground) floor where my desk is. Except for my task lighting and a light in the kitchen.

It's quiet at night in this neighborhood: except when there's an event at the school. But that's another topic.

Anyway, I heard something. In the living room. A sort of skittering sound. In the dark.

Okay: once, it might have been a pile at one of the kids' workstations sliding into a more stable configuration.

I heard it again. Definitely a skitter. And another sound: something sliding? It didn't last long enough for me to identify.

A mouse. Maybe. They get in, sometimes, in the fall: and we'd had at least one in residence in the early winter. We couldn't catch it. Them? I think they're getting smarter.

I heard it again. Sounded like a mouse. Sort of. A big mouse.

There it was again. A really big mouse.

I was not at all sleepy by then.

Since I wanted to pinpoint its location and at least identify the critter before taking further action, I didn't want to spook it: so I left the light off.

And waited.

After hearing a whole lot of skitters and shuffles, and another possible sliding sound, I had a pretty good bearing on the source of the sound.

Whatever it was, it sounded like it must weight several pounds.

A five-pound mouse??

It wasn't entirely dark: some light comes in from the kitchen. Which wasn't all that reassuring. I might not have seen a mouse, in the direction I was looking, but I'd have expected to see some trace of a critter weighing upwards of two or three pounds - assuming that it was moving around.

Nothing. I saw nothing.

Finally, around 4:00, with skitters not happening quite as frequently as they had at the peak, a few hours previously, I decided that whatever it was, wasn't going anywhere.

And I needed sleep.

Turns out, my wife had decided - correctly, in my view - that since it was so windy out, the rabbit should be let in. She'd moved his enclosure outside yesterday, I'd secured its entry, and Giol had been energetically nibbling grass yesterday afternoon.

So, my wife told our son to tell #1 daughter to go out, put Giol in his carrier, and take him in. Which #1 daughter did: leaving the carrier in the living room and returning to bed.

Without telling me that we now had a pet carrier in the living room, with a rabbit in it.

I hope to get to bed in better time tonight.

A Breakfast of Yogurt, Puffed, Rice, and Instant Coffee

This morning, while making breakfast, I got out a bowl, went to the refrigerator, put in a helping of yogurt, went to a counter and scooped out a measure of puffed rice, went to the microwave, opened a jar and put in a teaspoon of instant coffee.

My first thought was something like 'dumb! You didn't mike it first.'

Then, 'dumb!! It isn't coffee.'

The easiest thing to do would have been to dump the bowl's contents - at least that puffed rice/instant coffee mix on top - and start over. I hate letting food go to waste, though. I'm pretty sure that's something I learned from my parents, who learned it from their families' past and their experiences with the Great Depression.

So I separated as much of the coffee as I could by putting the rice and coffee in a glass, shaking it and lifting most of the rice off the top.

The coffee I put in water that I'd gotten heated by that time. The rice and the rest of the coffee I put back on the yogurt.

It's amazing, how much a little instant coffee will change the appearance and taste of yogurt.

I don't think I'll do that again. Not intentionally.

That wasn't the most auspicious way to start a day, but maybe I've got the "Monday" part of today out of the way now.

Sunday: Father's Day 2009 - Surprising my Wife

When my wife came back from church today, she shouted "Happy Father's Day" up the stairs. It was about a quarter to noon, and she apparently expected me to be still in bed.

I wasn't: Which she discovered as she rounded the corner into the kitchen, and saw me in the north room, at (what else?) the computer.

Now, I'm going up to spend a little time relaxing in a lazy boy chair in the attic, reading. It's been a good day.

And Now for Something Completely Different: Cat and Rabbit Meet

Over the weekend, #1 daughter told me about her rabbit's visit with a neighbor's cat, and I thought you might enjoy it, too. Here's the account, in her words.

Giol and Tom

It was last Thursday (January 29, 2009) when I took my rabbit, Giol to my neighbor's for a visit. My neighbor has an old tomcat. And, no, I wasn't planning on feeding her cat.

I was, however, curious to see how they'd get along. I wasn't terribly worried. I'll explain why later.

My neighbor was rather surprised at how fearless Giol was. Fearless nothing, he completely ignored the cat most of the time. The cat (named Tom, how appropriate), on the other hand, was more than a little freaked at this strange creature. He spent most of his time following Giol around at a safe distance and starting every time Giol moved.

Then Giol decided that he really should introduce himself. He hopped right up to Tom, lifted his face up to Tom's level, and sniffed. Tom backed up. Giol hopped forward. Tom nearly backed up over his back feet. Finally, Tom had enough and batted Giol over the head. It was the one time Giol actually ran from the cat.

He may have had his revenge by playing with Tom's food. Or he was frustrated that the kitty chow looked like food but didn't smell right. He had a similar quandry with a fake plant by the window. "It's green and leafy, but it doesn't smell like food!"

Tom finally managed to relax. He laid down with his tail flipping occasionally. Giol noticed the tail and thought it an interesting thing to sniff. The moment Giol's nose touched Tom's tail Tom was up and turned around with his back arched. Giol just sat there as if saying, "Where'd it go?"

Giol didn't spend all his time inadvertently tormenting Tom. He also knocked over baskets and begged for treats. And discovered a Y-intersection piece of collapsible tunnel.

Emphasis on 'collapsible.' Giol thought he'd jump on top of the tunnel. The tunnel collapsed under him and he slid to the ground as the tunnel sprung back up. I so wish I had my camera along to get the expression on his face. A sort of "What the heck just happened?!"

He also tried to sniff Tom again. An attempt at polite rabbit behavior that was once again met with a bop on the head. Though Giol didn't run off this time.

Poor Tom. He's maybe twice Giol's size and used to other animals running away from him. A curious little rabbit had him completely frazzled.

Breaking the Tension or Being a Twit: You Decide

While telling our son what little I knew about my wife and #3 daughter's condition, and the accident, I decided that a little humor might help ease the tension.

So, I said, in an exasperated, worried, tone, "who will feed me?!"

Our son gave me an odd look, paused, and said, "that's worthy of Garfield."

Still no word on, from, or about the ladies.

Wednesday: the Forgetful Case of the Missing Supplies

#2 daughter's college graduation ceremony is coming soon, and I must be more excited than I realized. A few minutes ago, I put water in the microwave, set the timer, and pushed the start button. Three times.

I had my elbows on the counter, face up to the microwave's control panel, studying the situation, when I realized that I'd left the door open. Of course, it wouldn't start!

I'm not the only one. My wife was going to pick up testing supplies for my blood sugar checker yesterday. At least, that was the plan. I hadn't been able to spot them. So, this morning, still unable to find the things, I called my father-in-law.

That actually makes sense. My wife and #3 daughter spend part of Wednesday afternoon over there, almost every week.

My wife couldn't remember where she put the supplies, so she asked #3 daughter. #3 daughter found them in "the black bag," a sort of carry-all that my wife takes with her most places.

Yep, we're definitely excited around here.

On top of the graduation, #2 daughter's boyfriend is here for a few days. Just in time to fix our cars. Well, one car and one van.

I think it was the cold weather that did it: #3 daughter's car battery had to be replaced, and the starter in the van gave out.

Thought for the Day

This doesn't happen often, but I heard a thought-provoking commercial on the radio today. An outfit promised that they'd "...take care of unplanned animal emergencies."

There are planned animal emergencies?

My Wife Washed My Coffee Cup!

When I got back from the weekend trip that I wrote about earlier, I discovered that my coffee cup was no longer in its usual position. After several minutes of searching, a thought hit me.

Moments later, I was checking the dishwasher. There, near the front of a clean load, was my coffee cup.

Clean. Outside and inside.

Holding the now-white cup in my hand, I showed my wife the now characterless container.

She acknowledged that my coffee would taste different now, but observed that it should be back to normal in a few weeks.

A Woodpile, a Skunk, and Dynamite: Remembering the Good Old Days

I discussed (ranted, actually) about how educators are protecting children from tag, touch football, and other dangerous games in an earlier post.

Now, something completely different.

My wife's mother told her kids about the time a skunk got in the school's woodpile.

Kids had noticed the skunk while playing before school. They didn't want the skunk around. At some point, the skunk found shelter in a woodpile stacked against the wall of the school.

It was an impasse: The kids were determined to get the skunk out before school started, and the skunk was determined to stay in the comparative safety of the woodpile.

So, one of the students went home, came back with some dynamite and blasting caps, and planted a charge under the woodpile. After the blast the skunk, the woodpile, and some of the wall's paint, were gone.

I don't know what would happen after that unauthorized blasting on (and of) school property these days. Back then, the school authorities made the junior demolition squad paint the wall they'd damaged.

Sunday: of Church and Toenails

This morning, getting ready to go to Mass, a cracked toenail reminded me that it needed attention. Again.

I'd hoped to avoid this, with a simple nail-clipping yesterday. No such luck.

Time for more drastic measures.

I asked my wife if I could have nail polish. It's great stuff, for reinforcing the nail until it could grow out a little, and heal itself.

Knowing that there were two daughters, and a niece, in the house, I should have realized how this would end.

After some discussion of a high-pitched and giggling variety, they decided on the color that I'd use. Thankfully, socks cover the toe, and the nail polish does its job, no matter what color it is.

It's pink.

Now, Something Funny: Not My Own

I haven't made an entry in this blog for quite a while.

And I'm not going to now, either. This isn't so much a post, as a note about a page I found online.

It's a funny (very funny) quantified list of how men can keep a woman happy. Reasonable, realistic ways: like uncloging toilets, checking out noises in the night, and not coming home late, smelling of booze and cheap cigars.

As a man who has been married for over a quarter century, I recognize most of the points: even where they don't apply to either me or my wife.

With the caution that name of the index this list is in is at best regrettable, and that some of the points in the list are mildly off-color, here's "Make her happy."

"(note the full stop)

"In the world of romance, one single rule applies: Make the woman happy.
Do something she likes & you get points. Do something she dislikes &
points are subtracted...."

The Crimson Conundrum Reveals Hostile Intent!

Nearly a week ago ("Computers, a Crimson Conundrum, and Digital Withdrawal"), I had reason to believe that the Crimson Conundrum, as I titled the strange presence who appeared, and disappeared, seemingly at will, around my laptop, might be a mere spectator: one who, for whatever reason, wished only to gaze upon the laptop's screen.

On Saturday, alas! I had to seriously consider that this strange figure clad in scarlet might have hostile intent!

See with what menacing posture he wields a quarter-dollar piece!

Consider the emotions which flooded my mind upon beholding this fell figure!

I hesitate to ponder what apparitions of this figure future may hold.

Ants! Nothing Stops Them!

Sometimes I feel like I'm in some fifties science-fiction B movie. Relentless hords of creatures have invaded. Conventional weapons are useless. (Sort of like Them! (1954), except that this enemy doesn't provide the big, slow-moving targets that the Hollywood ants did.)

Sure, saturation-bombing of an area with vinegar kills some of them, but a seemingly endless stream of replacements keeps marching in.

Those tiny ants are still in the kitchen.

Putting a plate into the washer last night, I saw dozens fall onto the inside of the washer's door when I tipped the plate. We've cleaned what we can, but a family of six needs to eat a few times a day, and that isn't an entirely smear-free process on the kitchen counter.

I took a picture of some of the things, plus a few crumbs, I think, earlier today. My wife may not appreciate that. The big oval thing on the right is a spoon. As I said before, those ants are tiny.

I made a post yesterday about them, and there really hasn't been that much change in our status.

The ants still have numbers and single-minded purpose on their side. They seem to have nothing to do but raid our kitchen. We, on the other hand, are distracted by day-to-day duties, but have superior intelligence on our side.

My wife still hasn't formulated a winning attack strategy.

Gingerly treading the narrow way between the twin threats of myrmecophobia and myrmecophilia, I'll continue to report as there are fresh developments.

Ants!

We've got ants this summer, again.

Little ones, tiny, smaller-than-a-breadcrumb things that just keep coming!

One of my kids reports that my wife, having cleared out the space under the kitchen sink, was sitting in front of the open door, with a flashlight, staring into the open space.

"Making battle plans against the ants?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah!" was the reply.

Another Advantage of a Large Family?

One of my kids is dizzy, another had a harder-than-usual time getting up this morning, a third has a sore throat, and the remaining one is sneezing. One of them observed that they're distributing the symptoms among themselves.

I don't think that's actually possible.

Why Does Sunburn Itch? A Burning Question

Barely conscious of an itch between my right cheek and eye this morning, extended a finger and itched it.

I was immediately reminded that I'd picked up a sunburn yesterday afternoon.

It could have been worse: The top of my head required oiling last night.

I've felt like the inside of my head needed lubrication from time to time, not so often with the outside.

Charlie Company came home yesterday, a little after noon. There was a not-exactly-brief ceremony at the fairgrounds. A grandstand-full of folks from around here got their soldiers back, and I got the top of my head zapped.

The hour or so wasn't a total loss: I learned that wearing a hat might be a good idea, and got about a half-hour of could-be-worse video.

Grim humor

Seen by one of my daughters on the license plate of a white hearse in Fargo-Moorhead:

DIGM UP