There. That's the latch to the hen house and the rooster door-knocker just in case we ever want to knock on the door to alert the chickens that we are about to come in.
Kathleen gave us the door knocker and the latch was the original one, I believe, on that door which came from that old barn-looking thing on our property that you see in some of my pictures.
Shutting the chickens up tonight was the most productive thing I did all day long unless you count the 47 seconds I spent super-gluing the soles of my slippers which had come partially separated from the slippers themselves.
And I felt fine. Just fine. It wasn't that. I picked up a barrow-full of fallen sticks and branches and hauled them to the burn pile and was just getting started with more of the trimming and had all of the frozen banana stalks in the Rubber Maid cart on my way to the place where I dump them and the damn little cap ("healing abutment") which is supposed to cover my implant post just came right out.
(Looks surgical, doesn't it?)
I guess all of those tooth-falling out dreams have prepared me. In fact, I wondered vaguely if this, too was a dream but since I haven't woken up yet, I guess not.
I called the dental office to get the number of someone I could talk to about it and yes, they give out the Dr.'s cell phone number which I called and I left a very sane message telling what had happened and that I did not think it was an emergency but that I would like to speak to him about it.
That was about five hours ago and no, he hasn't called back and of course I gave the land line as the number to call because my cell phone does not get phone reception in the house and so I've been stuck in the house all day which is ridiculous.
After intense (haha!) research on the internet, it would seem that this is not a big deal and that they can just screw it back in but shit...I would like to get confirmation on that.
It doesn't hurt or anything.
So. I've been doing what I hear that many normal people do on a gray day in fall which is to sit on the couch and knit and watch old movies. Maurice has kept me company.
Well, if you can call something about as inert as my ball of yarn "company."
At least she breathes.
The main movie I watched was "Something's Gotta Give" with the great Jack Nicholson and Diane Keaton. Also, Kenau Reeves who proves to be less of a suckified actor than we think he is and Jack and Diane (haha!) do their thing with their expected charm and ability. Say what you will about Jack, he's a world-class woman's ass-grabber. At least on screen. And Francis McDormand is in it so you know it's a good movie.
And so I watched it. And it had its tender moments.
Here's another thing I want to talk about- verification words on our blogs. I was so happy with the numbers. The numbers were easy. Which was wonderful. And now suddenly, the damn WORDS are back. One of them is always extremely readable. The other one looks like it was made of spaghetti and squids. Like, it's not eyesight you need to be able to copy it but psychic powers. I keep hitting that little circle thing to get something different and it does not get better. I finally just throw caution to the winds and type what I think it might possibly say and I am frequently wrong. Sometimes I do the audio option but the last time I tried that, there was so much static in the background of the recording that a damn bat couldn't have figured it out. Either that or I need a hearing aid and I am not discounting that possibility.
Okay. Just one of those days. A gray, not-bad, not-good day. A wet-cold but not really very cold day. A no-sun but no-rain either day.
I should have gone to town and gotten a tattoo.
Instead, I didn't.
May tomorrow bring something different.