health

Losing the Crown

Most think of royalty and a crown. Maybe even a Crown and Coke. I hate to let you down with the title today. For me it was a dental crown that was lost and this is how the story goes.

It’s not really a topic of conversation to speak about your existing crown outside of the dentist office. However on this day, my crown wanted to tell its own story.

It wanted to let me know it was annoyed at the dental hygienist that I let clean my teeth that morning. The crown didn’t like the extra poking and prodding she did. Come to think of it, neither did I. And for the record I am not a huge fan of any dentist, but I know I’m not alone there.

My crown let me know about it when I went to eat a snack later that day. She threw a tantrum of sorts. She bucked up, flung herself around my mouth with my food. Almost causing me to choke on the lovely porcelain crown. That would have been interesting cause of death I am sure.

Anyway, I was able to save the crown and myself simultaneously. An Irony I know. It was hard work but I did it and I’m here to recount the story. Out comes the crown and there lies a bare spot. A nub of tooth. An ugly spot. A very ugly gap if I do say so myself.

Thankfully the crown is hidden in the back of my mouth so most won’t notice. But of course I notice it. I feel it with my tongue. I feel it when I accidentally eat something on that side of my mouth. I feel it when brushing my teeth. I just know what’s missing. Losing a crown of any kind is shameful.

It’s such an annoyance to lose a crown. Now I have to wait patiently for the dentist to squeeze me in to have it reglued. Hopefully they will use Gorilla Glue this time to avoid future issues.
For now I’ll smile a little less until my grill and crown has been restored to its highly functioning self.

No pictures in this post as I wouldn’t want to scare anyone! Maybe I need a crown and coke to take the edge off my pain and suffering.

Another day. Another story. Go ahead and laugh at my expense. It was my hope to make you giggle my the end of this story. It’s as real as it gets.

3Splitz Farm

Rain

5:00 am wakeup call. The faint sound…you hear it on the rooftop. Pit pat pit pat or maybe its thrummmmm. Rain. Do I drift back to sleep?

Some may say they hate the rain. For a long time, I was one of them. Rain on marching band performances made our heavy wool uniforms stink. Rain on Disney days had us dragging out the dreaded ponchos. Rain on Halloween meant a raincoat over my costume. Rain is taking things away.

Then the rain took on new meaning.

During my mother’s funeral luncheon an enormous storm came out of nowhere. We were at the Stone Mountain Women’s Club. Picture a series of long foldup tables with every variety of salad: chicken salad with grapes and almonds, macaroni salad with bits of ham and roasted peppers, bean salad with vinegar dressing. Allllllll the mayonnaise. Then the hot dishes…chicken rice casserole with peas and melted cheese, macaroni and cheese with toasty breadcrumbs, pineapple casserole under a blanket of buttery Ritz crackers. And the desserts, oh the desserts. Cookies, bars, bundt cakes, and light green pistachio fluff. A meal fitting for one of the members of the cookbook committee.

We sat at the long tables, all gathered to honor my mother. The old wooden A-frame with the floor-to-two-story-ceiling windows. I looked over with my full plate and plastic silverware.

The trees twisted, branches ready to slip off their bending trunks. Leaves and pinestraw flying. Back and forth with abandon. If we had phones back then I’m sure they’d have all been buzzing with warnings. Summer storms come quickly in the South. We all just watched the sky turn green and the rain pour down on that summer afternoon. Wondering if the windows would shatter. Eventually it calmed down, but the storm stayed with me.

Ever since that time, rain is a comfort. But still an inconvenience. My mother is gone, why shouldn’t the sky cry?

And now today. Rain…

makes traffic worse

is a hazard on the trail

keeps me from having fun outside

makes the dogs antsy

messes up my hair

creates an endless need to sweep and mop the floor

matches the sadness inside

and and and. So while the rain seems appropriate, it still brings its challenges.

Then, a life change brings yet another shift in thinking.

This time it’s…

tulips,

daffodils,

crocus,

ranunculus,

anemones.

We’re on our way to flower farming. We just finished our first bed of spring flowers. Row after row of plump bulbs, tucked into the soil with fertilizer, peat moss, and hope. I don’t see them every day so I find myself wondering about them…are they happy in their new bed? Now my peeks at the weather forecast aren’t so much about what I should wear but about the bulbs. Like babies away at boarding school. Do they have what they need? A bit of sunshine and enough to drink?

Rain is their friend. I think of how thankful they must be for the nourishment. The refreshment. I smile when I look through my windows at work and see the rain coming down. It takes some storms and inconvenience in order to grow. Storms may bend us but not break. Welcome every season and the nourishment it brings. A change in my mind. One of many lessons from the blossoms.