Left: "Teeth"by Joe Correll
Right: "Tooth Fairy" by Blonde Blyth
Bottom: "Thermopolis, WY - Big Horn Hot Springs View"
So, how are your teeth doing these days, this morning? Are they up to date with your dentist? Have they been slowly or professionally whitened, or do you let you teeth flag fly? Maybe you have fortunate genes. In the procession to the great ice cream stand in the sky, will your teeth be coming with you? I've been thinking a lot lately about my chances.
I have an odd prediliction to lozenges. And I can't help but crunch after a bit, like in the old, "The questioners ask Owl how many bites it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop ad (I believe it's 3). I know it has to do with how dry my mouth is made by meds, but still. There's no way out. Dry mouth is breeding ground too.
I'm screwed, basically, unless I turn this huge boat around. Right now. I'm going to do it! I will call upon some of the best Teeth Mentors in my life to be my guides, par exemplar.
What a way to start your day.... in the morning....
Is that why I woke before 5am, or is this the new shape of things?
Is it just because we have kittens who storm the Bastille on a daily basis?
Who knows. Who cares? It's early. And either watch a bit of this season's worth of 'House,' to catch up when I'm able... or write my truth, baby.
Yesterday's museum memory story made me think of three others, but now I can't remember a single one. I have to start writing this stuff down. AND hope those memories rise once more out of the quagmire.
Here's a shorty pants story:
Driving across the country for the 3rd time in the early 80's, radiator blew 15 miles outside Thermopolis, Wyoming.
Let me ask, where would YOU set the best place for a story if you're going to overheat your car? But seriously, it happened. Nuff said. Right outside of the world-renown hot springs mecca. That was the first and only time I ever saw hot springs fed into a large outdoor swimming pool, literally filled with people.
It was all very odd. As we sat there, trying to let the engine cool down enough for us to make it into this healing-propertied town, I tried various methods to prevent heat stroke. Including having a tantrum if memory serves - wait, no, that's someone else's life. I think I exacerbated the whole thing by putting a heavy - dark- shirt over my noggin, but finally we were freed... made it into the town's fix-it garage in our Plymouth Fury III, stacked to the hilt - and I do mean every square millimeter was cleverly packed - not by me... goes without saying... with everything we owned (Ah - the light load days.... How I miss that now.)
Looking forward to natural hot springs easily set next to a cool river, I was sure I had suffered heat stroke when I saw the weirdness of 'Hot Springs" town in the middle of f$#% all. By the picture above, it looks like we didn't have the gumption to carlessly walk to the places where it was REALLY happening...
That pool - it haunts me to this day, but they were able to fix the car by nightfall, so - cool... on our way again.