Chipped Tooth and Ending Ruminations

Chipped a molar last night on a flipping brownie. It is not painful, and this is hardly newsworthy, except I've never even had a cavity. Yup, lived 46 years without a needle in the gums, and I liked it that way.

Until now. I haven't even been to a dentist since ours died of cancer in the Big City. I am certainly jinxed tooth-wise. But even worse, is that son #2 has NEVER been to a dentist, and he is 10. To further complicate matters, hubby needs root canals and partial dentures and has gum disease, and even HE has blown off the dentist for a couple years.

So, based upon a recommendation from my sister, I am going to make appointments for all with a very nice female dentist in the nearby city. We shall take a day off and make it a party. End of dentist rumination.

Now I gotta ruminate on how to end this second in the Thresholds series...I think its length is about right. The problem is, it needs to lead into the third, but I don't know what the third is. Options include:

1. The "and that's another blog" blog. I could fill in the story droplets that I hinted at in the first blook. Stuff like college stories wif my bestest friend Sandita and other "rocking chair" memories that I've accumulated.

2. The story of what happens after I get canned for publishing Thresholds and Other Ruminations. Of course this hasn't happen yet, but very well could. THAT's why I've bookiemarked the first amendment lawyer. Tee Hee.

3. The story of what happens after my school district lays me off, as they have to cut 10% of the budget across the board due to a state mandate.

4. Insert Option 4 here. I have NO idea what is to come in the next few months; that I HAVE learned from the whole fire thing.

All I DO know is that we signed and initialed our fingers until they were raw last week closing on our house mortgage. The good news is that we locked in at 4.3% interest for 15 years. We will own the home by retirement time, which is only 18 or so years away for me, and less for hubby cuz he is three years older.

Back to the tooth, I can now feel the warmness of the coffee I sip INSIDE the tooth. This is going to be interesting to say the least and painful in the most. K. Bye. Roger. Out.

Porch Pontifications

It's well documented that the demise of the front porch has resulted in decaying neighborhoods. Or something like that. People don't hang out on their front porches like they used to, at any rate.

We, on the other hand, hang out on our front porch about twice an hour -- whenever the need for nicotine arises. Yes, we are the people who had our house burn down and now we smoke in full view of the public. I'm sure this has caused more than one townsfolk to judge us, as if we burned our house down on purpose from casual smoking.

As a matter of fact, during the most uncomfortable interview ever, between the Ebil Insurance Company and me, I was asked many questions about the cause of the fire, including:

1. Does our son like to play with fire?
2. Do we smoke?
3. Did we have space heaters plugged in?
4. Did we offer up 4 cats as sacrifices on purpose? (ok, this wasn't an actual question, but it should have been considering the invasive nature of the questions.)

I kept reiterating that according to the fire department, the fire was electrical in nature. So, NO Son #2 does not have a fire fetish, and yes, I smoke but know how to put them out safely. Keep in mind, this was MY own insurance company, trying to establish our liability. I felt like a damn criminal during that interview, and didn't appreciate it in the weeks following the fire.

So, back to the porch. Hubby and I sit and smoke and pontificate about life's finer points: the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the history of the World according to a history teacher (hubby), and the dreams of a manic school teacher (me).

We take turns pontificating, and there is something about the porch that makes our speech safe and thrilling. Any passerby could over hear us talking, but since it's a small town the only passerby is the aforementioned "walking man." If he were to stop and listen, I'm sure he'd run away holding his head in his hand and screaming, "Those people are fucking crazy!"

But we are not crazy, we are simply bleeding heart liberals who are getting more and more conservative with age...we are concerned with World events but feel helpless to change the course of them...we are full of hopes and dreams that remain unfulfilled due to funds and time.

So, townsfolk, next time you drive by and see us smoking on the front porch, know that we are solving world problems in addition to inhaling deeply. We are ruminating about the Thresholds in our own lives still...and wondering how to safely cross them to get to the other side.