I use the word "staycation" somewhat satirically. Yes, I'm staying home, and I have no care giving responsibilities, and no great house projects that require my time and physical effort. But for me, the lines between vacation and a normal day aren't so clear anymore. Ever since I retired, my days are a mix of everything. On vacations with family, amidst wonderful adventures, I try with all my might to help make it a smooth and memorable trip for us all. And back at the farmette, even if I do care for grandkids, I have plenty of time that is not dedicated to that effort. So is it really fair to call one a vacation and the other something else?
But this week is different, since it truly is a week where I get to set all the terms. And so what do I do on this hot and summery Monday, the first day where I am left to my own devices? I run through not one, but three medical visits: a postponed check up, a requisite wee test, and the highlight of the day -- a tooth pulling.
Ed laughs: you should be happy, you like going to the doctor!
How wrong you are, dear love! I like going to the doctor only because I have this antiquated and somewhat crazy theory that if I go early on, this will prevent me from having to go more often and more intensely in the future! Sort of like taking vitamin C (or oil of oregano, according to my mom) when you first get the sniffles, so that you don't tumble into the abyss of a respiratory calamity down the road.
The tooth pulling is a third one for me. The last such event was straight out of a twisted film noir, where the dentist could not for the life of him, get that molar to leave its forever home. I vaguely recall that he had to use a chisel and hammer, but perhaps I have built this memory up out of a patchy recollection of the macabre details. This time I opted for greater sedation. (My surgeon agreed: molars should always be removed this way -- it's barbaric otherwise. I know, I know, his livelihood depends on it, but still...)
The problem with my new tooth removal strategy is that you cannot eat, or even drink water on the day you go in. So, no breakfast!
That's a horrible punishment! I may as well succumb to a totally miserable morning: I go out to feed the cats and then remain outside with the resident blood suckers (mosquitoes) and snip 445 spent day lilies.
On the upside (and this really is an incredible upside!), the garden is beautiful. In July, a day without pictures from the flower fields is unimaginable. I mean, I spend all winter thinking about these fields. And now we're finally in full blooming mode. I need the reminders, to pull me through February and especially March.
(Big Bed)
(one of my favorite groupings right now)
(these are some of my first lily plantings at the farmette...)
(my exploration of this flower has taken me to more complex forms and color presentations ...)
(... and I love these unusual flower heads! but honestly, I also love the simple yellows, the uncomplicated abundant reblooms... you'll see more of them as the summer progresses!)
After, I run through my appointments and then finally, finally, at 4:30 pm, we eat breakfast on the porch!
This may be the only post in Ocean's history where I end it with a near evening morning meal!
But this week is different, since it truly is a week where I get to set all the terms. And so what do I do on this hot and summery Monday, the first day where I am left to my own devices? I run through not one, but three medical visits: a postponed check up, a requisite wee test, and the highlight of the day -- a tooth pulling.
Ed laughs: you should be happy, you like going to the doctor!
How wrong you are, dear love! I like going to the doctor only because I have this antiquated and somewhat crazy theory that if I go early on, this will prevent me from having to go more often and more intensely in the future! Sort of like taking vitamin C (or oil of oregano, according to my mom) when you first get the sniffles, so that you don't tumble into the abyss of a respiratory calamity down the road.
The tooth pulling is a third one for me. The last such event was straight out of a twisted film noir, where the dentist could not for the life of him, get that molar to leave its forever home. I vaguely recall that he had to use a chisel and hammer, but perhaps I have built this memory up out of a patchy recollection of the macabre details. This time I opted for greater sedation. (My surgeon agreed: molars should always be removed this way -- it's barbaric otherwise. I know, I know, his livelihood depends on it, but still...)
The problem with my new tooth removal strategy is that you cannot eat, or even drink water on the day you go in. So, no breakfast!
That's a horrible punishment! I may as well succumb to a totally miserable morning: I go out to feed the cats and then remain outside with the resident blood suckers (mosquitoes) and snip 445 spent day lilies.
On the upside (and this really is an incredible upside!), the garden is beautiful. In July, a day without pictures from the flower fields is unimaginable. I mean, I spend all winter thinking about these fields. And now we're finally in full blooming mode. I need the reminders, to pull me through February and especially March.
(Big Bed)
(one of my favorite groupings right now)
(these are some of my first lily plantings at the farmette...)
(my exploration of this flower has taken me to more complex forms and color presentations ...)
(... and I love these unusual flower heads! but honestly, I also love the simple yellows, the uncomplicated abundant reblooms... you'll see more of them as the summer progresses!)
After, I run through my appointments and then finally, finally, at 4:30 pm, we eat breakfast on the porch!
This may be the only post in Ocean's history where I end it with a near evening morning meal!
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