I had a dentist appointment at eleven this morning but got a call about nine from the receptionist at the office. My dental hygienist was not feeling well and could I reschedule for tomorrow?
Now going to the dentist is about one billionth as anxiety-producing to me as going to the regular doctor but still- that brief reprieve flooded me with joy and suddenly, the world looked three times as bright.
I got on it and did three loads of laundry, hung them on the line, attacked the stairs, hallway, kitchen and Glen Den with the broom, and picked a few more peppers, okra, field peas, and zinnias. I decided I had enough peppers to do another batch of pepper jam and so I did. I haven't tasted this one yet but I hope it's good. Here's what the peppers look like cooking down with the sugar and vinegar.
Here you go.
I have no idea how this has happened because obviously I am not nearly old enough to be the grandmother of a child who is losing her baby teeth. Much less the grandmother of a child in middle school.
Nope. Not possible.
And yet, it would appear that I am. I guess that August will be losing his teeth soon.
Owen will be twelve. August will be six.
Talk about not possible.