Knit One Pearl Two oof

So, I've forcibly taken a vow of silence this long weekend.....*.....

ooooh and I'm also, in effect, apparently forced to cleanse and purge.

Why? I have to....I have a fractured front tooth. Talking loosens it. And I can't eat solid food.
I've been told to do as little as possible for the next 4-6 weeks...or I will lose it within that time frame.

And not being Jesus, I doubt I possess similar Jesus-like-endurance. So, may I say eeeeegahds*+;...

None of this is about a religious conversion. It is a bit ironic it should occur during the whole Resurrection timing thingy.

Last weekend, my great big Bernese Mountain Dog nailed me square in the front tooth.

Massive force. OOOF direct hit in the toof

My fault enitrely.

I was smiling [translation: hanging-my-teeth-out-to-dry in my happiness to see him] to which he responded with his own overly enthusiastic headbutting-show-of-similar-glee-and-happiness.

Thus he nailed me.

Not nailed, as in Jesus-on-the-cross-kind-of-nailing. Fortunately my dog can't wield a hammer with those little half up his arms thumb-stubs of his.

But my uber furry friendly friend doth did clobber me. Now I sthpeak with a listhp. It'sth stho sthore & fragile.

Incredibly, I still have the oblique fractured tooth stubbornly in my head.

This is defying all the odds already.

Which is where & what I want said toof to remain doing.

The splitting splicing unrelenting headache that accompanies it - takes a bit getting used to though.

It's kind of like that it-loves-me-it-loves-me-not daisy petal suspense game at the moment. How very Spring.
How not-fun is THAT senselessly destructive game to inflict upon not only the poor silent flower, but also the unloved person who gets nothin' in the inevitably predictable end?

What is interesting, are the little things we associate to little things we take for granted in life. Threaten to take something we've had forever - away and, well, it's a different ball game of getting used to isn't it? Regardless of age.

In a typical, ironic, middle finger of flicking fickle fate, these teeth I take for granted, are identical to what my mums teeth looked like. My mum - I too took for granted when she was alive. So, as I stand in front of a mirror and see that I stand to loose the last remaining aspect of my mum which I always carried with me as I go through life.....

The embarassing truthiness, in all this toothiness is....I feel like I'm losing my mum twice.

Thus it is my hope, that by some sheer miracle, my massive fissure crack fluke of a fracture, which by all professional accounts, ought to have taken my front tooth out by now, knits itself a cozy cocoon & coagulates, congeals, creates an inexplicable-concrete-epoxy-connection, and enables my enamel to stay with me for the remainder of my days.

let thee, & my teeth, get long in the tooth

toothgether

pleasth

: B