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Conversation this morning, ffice:smarttags" />11 AMfficeffice" />

Bonnie:         What time is your appointment?

Me:              It’s at 1.

Bonnie:         Aren’t you nervous?  I’d be nervous.

Me:              It’s just for a consultation.  It will be fine.

Bonnie:         Well, call me when you get home.  I want to know how you are.

Me:              Bonnie!  It’s a consultation, it’s nothing I’ll be fine, really.

Bonnie:         Well, call me…

Me:              (Weary of the whole thing) OK, but I’ll be fine.  It’s a consultation; he’s not going to do anything.  He’s going to look, we’re going to talk. That’s it.

Bonnie:         Yeah, fine.  Just call me.

Me:              (Rolling eyes, acting like a 14 year old talking to her dense mother)  Yeah, Bye.

Me, 4 PM

                   Previously root canalled tooth re-root canalled because someone failed to show up for  her appointment.  Jaw dislocated in process by over enthusiastic edontist.  Jaw resnapped into place.   Glowing in dark from multiple x-rays.   Swollen face, bruising lips, lost faith in medicodental establishment.  No pain prescription issued.  Husband called the Dislocator a beast.  Hit the old vicodin supply.  Not quite covering the pain, but more relaxed, generally.

I was going to give this to clansoup when his stunning  45 word post of June 6th reached its 200th comment, an achievement he is within 33 comments of reaching.  After his post tonight however, there is no point in holding onto it any longer.  He is simply remarkable. 

I am  going to post a whinealingering today.  All are cordially urged to ignore it and go to the next post.  This blog started as a diary and I reserve the right to sometimes, and I hope not too often, to use it as it started.  Skip it, is my advice.  The next post will be more fun. 

I noticed the little blinky light on the answering machine, hit the new message button, and heard my little daughter (taller than I, but always my little daughter) tired-sounding, a little low undertone perhaps to the very young sounding voice.  The happy rush of the first call she had made was absent from this halting message.  She's tired, perhaps, and I had told her to get every rich possiblity from each minute of her trip, so I shouldn't be surprised that when she called at about midnight her time, she was weary.  Random little sighs of no information. Silence.  I'll call maybe on Friday.  Click.

I've been pushing how much I miss her out from the front of my mind, keeping it back there in the shadows, in that storage area I don't go out of my way to look at.  Sometimes I pass through on my way elsewhere, but I make an effort not to linger, not to reinventory the lopsided boxes and stray papers strewn there. 

And now I miss her.  Every experience that would have been more fun with her here that I wouldn't acknowledge at its occurance is leaning on my outlook today. 

I know it's understandable and silly at the same time.  I know August will be here too soon in some ways and not soon enough in others.  Her leaving there and coming here will pack impossibly contrasting emotions one on the other.

I can have logic, sense, wisdom.  It doesn't help.  I miss her.

Stainless steel, strong and impervious to all peril, I will prevail.

I have been informed that my self-image may be a little off the mark.  The necessity for a reality check was implied.  I was shocked to think that I was presenting a false impression here.  Truth is important to me, and unless truth is going to put a loved one in harm's way, I stick by the truth.  Okay.  Let's have another go.  I'm back, the real me.

Sultry smokin' hot blogvixen.

I do so much pitypartying here that I thought I would post a truly happy post today.

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You are all thinking that I am going to write, "but then..." and segue into another wail-aloud, but I am feeling no pain.

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You are all thinking that I am going to tell you I am injesting pharmaceutical agents to deaden my nerves, but I drove to the drugstore for a different reason.

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You are all thinking that I am going to post another list of errands I don't like to do or carpool rounds I perform faithfully but joylessly, but I only had adults in my car today.

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You are all thinking that I've been carjacked by gypsies, adult gypsies, and that I am going to ask you to pass the hat to raise ransom money, and that's right.

Ha! Gotcha!

I had a most enjoyable day.  I had coffee with my younger brother who brought me a rose from my mother's garden, where the most beautifully scented roses grow.  I also went to my favorite plant store and bought plants for outside and a sweet little flower pot that I am going to plant a delicate little plant in to place on the table next to my side of the bed.  I didn't hurry home, but went on to the hoity toity food market to look at their exquisite plants and called my great good friend Marie, reaching her on her cell phone from my cell phone which seemed pretty cool at the time, since she was at a third plant store.  We arranged to meet at my house and check out more plant stores together.

While I was waiting for her to travel back to Bfield, my front door opened and in walked my sweet Eric, who has come home from his summer internship for a few days.  He walked right in and gave me a great enveloping hug, six feet three of him home until Monday night.  He chided Parker for having gone to see Spiderman 2 without him, saying he really wanted to see it with him, which was the best thing that he could have said hands down, good for Parker and therefor for the rest of us.  He took Parker with him to see a friend so I could go with Marie, conscience clear, and plant shop, finding such beautiful flowers that I couldn't resist them, and then at another store finding such good prices on flowers that I didn't have to try to resist them.  And since we were such wonderful horticultural shoppers, we had lunch out and laughed a lot.

Tonight Bob insisted on dinner coming courtesy of hands not mine, and we woked and (egg) rolled happily and some things were a bit spicy which I like quite a lot.  And since the last plant store is also a produce market which has nice wine and beer as well, I have a nice glass of dark ale to go with my blogging and with some lovely music.

Good night.  I hope you all have a day as nice as this tomorrow.

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Who in the world bought all of these plants?  They are all over the place, wilting in their little plastic square ugly pots sending me subliminal demands.  "Plant me now!"  "Water me!": "Me first!" "No, me!" "I've been waiting the longest."  Mosquito scouting parties are patrolling, waiting to report back to headquarters the minute I venture out to answer the subliminal faunal terrorists' demands.

No time for a coffee shop run.  I have crops to put in.