Third (Fifth) Time's A Charm

At least I hope this time's a charm for the "pedicure" and "tiara" for #29. 

The first real appointment  (the second after the first late afternoon "emergency" work-in) resulted in a snow day cancelelation and subsequent reschedule. Given the option of one week out, or two, I went with two since #29 had lost its voice, and,  silly me,  in the middle of a pandemic,  I actually entertained thoughts of a holiday roadtrip during the first week.

Number 29, a party-pooping homebody,  vetoed that idea. 

The hoped for road trip did not materialize as 29 refound and raised its voice to a crescendo that rivaled the roar of the loudest aircraft ever built:  the XF-84H.  It was so loud it could be heard 25 miles away, and it's endearing nicknames included "Thunderscreech" and  "Mighty Ear Banger"--the turbo jet, not Number 29

Until Number 29 became its twin.

And we were once again worked-in emergently at the end of the day, too late to do much of anything except reschedual, and introduce drugs to appease Number 29. 

The drugs were effective. Mostly.

At the rescheduled appointed time Number 29 revealed an over abundance of virulent fluid.  After six failed dry-off attempts, and failure of the root-tip to be vizualized on multiple photo shoots (my roots run deep--and apparently curl better than my hair),  we decided on an additional reschedule. 

We were hopeful that this re-reschedule, the fifth appointment, would put an end to the seeminly never ending pedicure, and we could get on with the tiara.

I went home to complete the drugs.

Today was in fact the fifth appiontment, counting the two emergency work-ins, but I'm counting it as the "charming" third actual visit. 

Although it's now filed under the Win column, it was not an easy victory.

I correctly predicted it would take 3 packs to staunch the flow today (we stopped last visit after six packs and no signs of letting up).  And I lost count after ten unsuccessfully attempted x-rays aimed at capturing the entire root on one film,  to ensure insurance understands the problems encountered. In addition to being exceedingly long and curling, my roots are apparently quite camera shy. 

We finally succeeded. 

This time I had to resort to the bite block and multiple applications of the anesthetic--but the root canal (pedicure) is completed.  Finally.  The smaller abscess in a side pocket where I previously lost a chip of tooth near the gumline, and the gyser inside the root canal are both drained and dry.  The temporary crown (tiara) is in place.  The permanent crown impression has been sent off and  its coronation will occur in a couple weeks.  I'd send you a formal invite, but the coronation room is a little too small due to  current pandemic physical distancing limitations. 

Sadly,  the anesthetics wore off--a little too quickly since I was out of pain relievers at home. The dentist offered me a prescription for pain meds, but it wasn't painful enough to take him up on the offer.

However, after the procedure, I did go straight way to Walgreens to replenish my motrin stash. Just in case...

Water Woes

Sunday dawned a beautiful, albeit chilly, day. I decided to move a couple plants outside to take advantage of the sunshine. As I moved them, I realized they probably would like a drink of water. All my outdoor faucets are winterized, and while it takes no time at all to pop the cover off, I didn't want to deal with reattaching the hose, and then reversing the process.  Luckily, I have a watering can that sits under the edge of the eaves and catches rainwater runoff. It was filled to the brim thanks to four days of duck weather.

Each time I pick up that watering can I remember "you get what you pay for."  You see,  it was a cheap can. The handle is hollow on the underside causing it to bite into my hand each and every time I use it. I really dislike that can, but I'm too tight with my money to buy a new, more expensive, watering can when this hand-biting bucket is perfectly capable of preforming the job.

I've considered wrapping tape around the handle to close the gap. I've also considered stuffing the gap with part of a pool noodle or other foam product.  Or recycled packing material, or even a rag. I know I have something that will work. Although I develop back-up plans for back-up plans at work, I never get past the planning stage of fixing that watering can.  But that's a whole different blog post.

Anyway, I bent over and reached for that awful can and, because Murphy loves me--or rather, because I failed to fully plan or consider the consequences, as I picked up the full bucket, my wallet, hanging on the chain around my neck, with all my cash, credit cards, gift cards, business cards, single emergency check. TDL, and voters registration card fell in the full bucket of rain water and got soaked.

There is always a silver lining: thankfully, this mishap did not occur in a dirty bathroom.

It also forced me to declutter my wallet.  And now all my cards are squeeky clean. And only my signature on my voters registration card smeared. Even the other paper products dried quickly, and since they were spread out over every horizontal surface in close proximity nothing stuck together. Really, when I stop to think about it, I have no water woes to write about.

Except the water mishaps continued--just a little.

During lunch, ice flew out of my glass when I added splenda to my tea. Not a big mishap.  Just a small peice of ice. The resultant melt was easily contained with a paper napkin. Which ensured my ability to wipe down part of the table where I laid my cteadit card. Everything else remained at home. Drying.

While my next water woe was not technically mine, I'm including it in the list. Partially because it occurred within my personal space. But more importantly, I needed a  third woe.

Not to be outdone, my water clutziness rubbed of on our waiteress, who dripped tea on the floor when she attempted to refill the glass.

Okay, so it did not really occur in my personal space.   It was my lunch partners tea, and the spill was within my six-foot physically distanced perimeter.  So I'm counting it.

While brain storming titles for this blog post, I googled water. I know: how lame.  But I learned I've been drinking water wrong. Everything from the type of water, to the amount of water, to the way water should be drunk. I've been doing it wrong my entire life. Don't get all smug--according to the articles, everyone--including you--has been drinking water wrong.  

Good thing I changed my drink of choice to Diet Dr Pepper. 

I used to de-stress by reading while taking a nice long soak in a warm bubble bath. I'd love to partake of that wonderful ritual right now with an icy DDP.

But I'm afraid the water woes might get real and cause me unreparible bodily harm.  So I'll stay dry and  de-stress with just the cold DDP instead. At least I hope to stay dry--while spilling even a drop of my DDP would  not be a true water woe, it would constitute a hydration hazzard for this "pepper."

Paying Respects

During most TV shows the FurKids  just snuggle next to me while I watch the show.  However, they all perk up when TV dogs bark. 

KatE barks back and stays lazer-focused on the TV.  She also has the best hearing, and barks when the neighbors, or their dogs,  go into their back yard...or the kids across the street come out to play...or a delivery is made at our front door...or she hears a squirrel.  She can hear a squirrel no matter how stealthily is moves. 

Her Mama, Kenzie,  is a little less excitable--except with the squirrels. She doesn't allow too much of anything to interrupt her beauty rest. And she is dead weight when I need to move her out of  my place so I can go beddie-bye each night. She is the fastest sleeper I've ever known--going from settling in to dead sleep in sixty seconds flat.  Or less.

While Moggy does not react to outside visitors, or most TV shows,  I have caught him playing in my books and actively watching  nature shows...and travel shows involving the beach--in particular serene beaches without crashing waves.  

Knowing The FurKids like to watch the occasional show, I try to leave the TV playing softly on a timer when I'm expected to be away for long stretches of time . Softly so they are not inundated with sound. And on the timer, because I set the timer when I first bought the TV, and quite frankly, have forgotten how to undo the settings I set--when the TV goes off while I'm a show, I simply over-ride the sleep setting by turning the TV back on.

Since The FurKids like the occasional show, I was not too suprized when I  heard a stylized version of Taps playing on the TV during a funeral scene and saw KatE sitting at attenton watching it.  I thought it was sweet and my heart melted a little.  I was in another room and did not have access to my phone/camera, otherwise there would be a photo to accompany this post.

As soon as Taps ended, KatE eased into a heads-up down position and continued to watch the credits roll.  She evidently has discerning taste in what she watches, because when the ads started she put her head down and went back to ignoring the TV.

Until the next show started and her head  poped back up for a look-see. 

The entire time KatE watched the Taps  presentation, Kenzie was snoozing, and Moggy was in the other room with me. 

I don't believe in consequences,  and I can't really say KatE was actually paying her respects; however, the timing was pretty cool...😉

The Travelin' Cat

With respect to traveling, Moggy, my domestic short hair (DSH) cat has come a long way.  Pun unintentional.

When Bandit and I first rescued him, Moggy was like most of the cats I've been the servant of--yowlingly vocal about his dislike for traveling in the SUV.

The small confines of the cat carrier and potty breaks while harnessed and on the leash--which only occasionally worked at the hotel--and never in route because the traffic noise spooked him, soon gave way to the blanket wrapped crate (which restrained scratched litter from freely flying throughout the SUV).  For the comfort of His Royal Catness, one of his travel  litter boxes was tucked away in the back of the crate, and one of his cat beds took up the front half of the crate. While the crate set up worked well, for a couple years,  Moggy remained quite vocal.

Until I realized he really like to listen to male voices reading the audio books I checked out from the public library to pass the driving time during those multi-thousand mile road  trips.  This was a great way to travel...once Moggy settled down for the story.

During our last trip to the west coast  Moggy decided he was having none of it. I don't know if the altitude hit him hard, if it was the cold, which he normally loves, or the fact that he realized he was religated to the back of the SUV. For whatever reason, Moggy would not quiet himself. In desperation, after trying all the tricks,  I placed him in his carrier and repacked the SUV so his carrier faced me from the passenger seat. He cried briefly until he put his paw on my hand and that was the end of it. He was quiet for the rest of that long day of driving. No yowling. No crying. No restlessness. Just sweet quiet contentedness.

The car carrier became his prefered mode of transport. When he stirred and became restless, it was my cue to stop for potty breaks and I would transfer him to the crate until the next stop.

But the furthest Moggy has come in his travel routine is this:  every day when I arrive home after work, Moggy has been willingly hopping into the SUV while I gather all my paraphernalia. He's been doing this for several months. This week he stepped it up a notch and refused to exit the SUV. So I've been locking him inside while I unlock the front door, check the mail box, and bring the trash cans back from the road to their storage place. Once I am finally ready to go inside, I  pop up the liftgate, and Moggy plays a subdued game of  King of the Inside Mountain prior to exiting the SUV.

This two shall pass--one of my Christmas gifts this year is a wearable sling-type carrier.  Boy is he in for a surprise!



Update:
I started this post a couple days ago. Two nights ago,  as I stepped out of the SUV,  he moved to where I stepped--yep,  his little paw ended up mn under my big foot.  He still entered the SUV and performed his "refuse to leave" routine. When he finally came inside with me, rather than giving me a wide berth, he continued to stay underfoot. I think he's actually trying to get back at me by tripping me. 😉

That's okay, the entire Zoo piled in my bed, and snuggled close, when the neighborhood fireworks started tonight. 

Looking forward to a fabulous 2021, filled with God's blessings, good health, safety, and lots of travel--have to break the sling--carrier in and get Moggy acclimated to it. 😉