Got up at 6:30 am. Fed myself and the cats, then headed out the door a bit early, at 7:15 am, so I could stop at the landfill on the way over to pick up J. for work.
Afer dropping J. off, I headed to Dr. Dental, where they offer cleanings, exam and x-rays for just $57 (new patients only). Even the regular price of $87 for all of the above shaves nearly half off the price I pay at my much loved, but exorbitantly priced hometown dentist, who charges $152 for a cleaning by the hygienist and a 2-minute exam by dentist.
I was a little nervous. They had 4 or 5 chairs, as opposed to my solo practitioner dentist back home. Here, the dentist himself did the cleaning using a Cavitron, basically a high-powered stream of water that pulverizes placque buildups. He assured me it was safe and effective. He finished in a fraction of the time it usually takes my hygienist; perhaps that's why they can offer a cleaning so much more cheaply.
In hindsight, I don't think he cleaned my teeth as well as my hygienist does using hand tools. There's a spot on the sides of my upper teeth, near the back (my hygienist says there are saliva ducts there) where there's always plaque buildup. I noticed Dr. Dental did not get the placque there cus i could feel the roughness still there. So I don't know what I'll do next time.
The giant flag flying in the middle of our Main Street was flying at half mast. It was the anniversary of 9/11, of course.
I had already decided to catch the afternoon matinee at the local $2 movie theater. It was so gorgeous out, I walked there and back, which was fun. The movie was the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, starring Judy Dench. It was about one of my favorite subjects: retirement. It was cute, a bit funny and had a happy ending.
This morning, I knew I'd be driving J. in to work late as he had to meet with his probation officer. So I slept in, rising at 7:30 am and had a leisurely breakfast of pancakes with agave nectar.
I already did a load of laundry that is hanging out to dry in the bright sunshine, along with an assortment of winter scarves that smelled mildewy. That seems to happen each year in my un-air-conditioned house/closets, even though the closets have louvered doors. A few hours in bright sunshine on a dry day does wonders for them though.
I will also be putting a second coat of oil paint down on the downstairs closet floor this a.m. Luther had a disastrous encounter with the first coat 3 days ago. What possessed him to walk on it when it stunk to high heaven, I don't know, but when I came in from mowing the lawn, I discovered white paw prints on my wood kitchen floor, wood living room floor, my Moroccan rug, the bamboo matt in the sun room and the dining room table.
I managed to get it all up simply using a DRY paper towel on the sticky, rapidly drying paint. On the bamboo matt, though, the paint had gotten in between the slats, so I had to use a gasoline-based Goof Off on it. But I closed the room off afterwards, left all the windows wide open over night and by morning it smelled fine.
Luther's paws were more trouble. I had to straddle the cat, backwards and forwards, then lift his paws one by one and cut away as much as I could of the thick fur that grows between his Maine Coon toes. He was most unhappy. I know I didn't get it all. The only other thing I thought I could do was bring him to the vet and have them anesthetize him, but that seemed extreme, and presents its own risks. He is fine now. I hope he didn't swallow any of that stuff when he cleaned himself.
This is the same bad boy who chooses to poop outside the litter boxes in the basement, using the gravel in the French drain that rings the perimeter of the basement as his personal boudoir.
Flies from outside found their way into the basement, laid their eggs in his poop, and I had repeat bumper crops of baby flies who found their way to the main part of the house. I'd been swatting flies repeatedly, all over the house. It was so disgusting. I prayed for an early frost.
I am still on hold with the Dept. of Labor as I write this. The estimated wait is over 1 hour. Sigh.
A day in the life of PatientSaver