Late Friday afternoon I received a text from my dentist’s office reminding patients of all the safety precautions patients needed to abide by during an appointment. Instantly I thought my appointment must be imminent. I looked through my calendar, though, and couldn’t find an entry.

I left a message with the dental office saying I’d apparently neglected to enter the date and time for my appointment, and asking them to contact me with that information when they opened on Monday.

Over the weekend, though, I began thinking that my appointment was for early morning on August 3, so I set an alarm and was at the dentist’s office a few minutes before eight this morning, prepared to wait awhile in case my appointment was at nine. As soon as I parked my car I called the office number.

“We just listened to your message,” the voice on the other end said. “Your appointment is for November 4, at 8 a.m.”

I don’t think I’ll wait around that long.

At least I wouldn’t have suffered the fate of these dinosaurs.

Peace, people.

Not the Cosmos

I’m running behind this morning. It’s 7:50 on this Tuesday morning. There’s a dental appointment scheduled at 10 a.m., clear across Tallahassee, and I’m not even close to being ready. In fact, I’m still in bed scrolling through Facebook and wondering what in the world I could post here.

Then, this comes along.

It made me giggle and inspired me to get up and get ready to see the dentist! These teeth aren’t going to clean themselves.

Peace, people.

2018 Snapshot #1, or Who Can Identify This Plant?

Last year I posted snapshots and tried to number them reliably, but I’m rather a disorganized soul, and soon jumbled up the count. I’ve never let disorganization stop me in the past, though, so I’m just going to number these things according to an ever changing set of rules.

I snapped this photo yesterday in the garden area of my dentist’s office in Tallahassee. Then I proceeded to ask everyone what it was. No one in the office had a clue. I guess that’s why they went into dentistry and not botany.

Anyway, perhaps a reader with some gardening knowledge can help me out:

The blossoms aren’t on the plant itself, so kindly ignore them. Do note the purplish serrated looking leaves, and the oddly bare trunk-like stem. The plant is striking in its almost alien demeanor. I imagine if plants grew on Venus, this is what they’d look like.

Thanks in advance for any assistance.

Peace, people.

Dental Visit

Open wide, don’t flinch

Now you’ll feel a little pinch

Then only numbness.

You call that a pinch?

Sonofabitch I’m wounded

Grievously woonthed.

Thit, now my tongue ith athleep.

Thit, thit, thit, thit, thit.

Here’s one of my all-time favorite episodes of the Carol Burnett show. 


%d bloggers like this: