Se Habla Espanol?

Those of you who scour the articles on this page and read the comments will notice that the Emsworth Habs finally mastered the Comments button. Well done I say!

You may also have noted that our latest Habershon college graduate, Ed, is working in London for Gizmo and Widget. Ed, if you’re reading this, I’m sure everyone would like a job description.

Oh, and I’d like the avocado slicer for Christmas, please. Never seen one of those.

A Happy Household

Adopting two cats instead of one was a good idea. Condi and Maggie wrestle, play together and groom each other, and have become fast friends. 19-year-old Mud finds them rather unruly but tolerates them and (like Metallica’s Sandman) sleeps with one eye open.

Both are very affectionate. Condi perches on John’s shoulder while he’s sitting at his computer. She stays there if he stands up and walks around the house. Maggie likes playing with water. She dips her paw in the water bowl to drink, much to Mud’s disgust. Then when I brush my teeth she gets in the sink and drinks from the running tap. I’m terrified she’s going to learn how to switch it on herself. Our water bill is already high enough.

You want more pictures?

Minis 14, Astros 0

HMMS Members had planned to plant flowers at the Houston Zoo yesterday and then have a picnic in the park. The Zoo activity was postponed, so we just went to the park.

Here are some pictures.

The day went downhill after that, as John and I went to Minute Maid Park to cheer the Astros into the playoffs.

We might as well have driven to a funeral home.

The Astros lost. Their season is over.

In about 48 hours I shall recover from this and become a Cubs’ fan. Of course, that’s only until they meet the Red Sox in the World Series.

Are they using these words in England?

Three things that bug me (maybe it’s the toothache making me intolerant):

I can’t stand it when people (especially politicians, these days) start a sentence with “Look!” It seems rather rude to me.

Instead of things having things wrong with them they have issues. “I like the new Ford Thunderbird,” I said to someone recently. “Yes, but it has issues,” was her response.

People seem to say exactly instead of “yes.” For instance: standing behind someone in the ticket line at the movies the other night, I heard the cashier say, “did you say two adults?” The response was “Exactly.”

And now you can all get on my case for starting sentences with And. I can’t help it. Leave me alone.

Root Canal Hell

Tooth Number 19 has continued to give me hell. I know it’s Number 19 because that’s what it says on today’s invoice. Or maybe that’s the 19th tooth my dentist has worked on?

When I first took it to him he filled it between the crown and the gumline. That didn’t work, so the next visit he tapped off the crown with what felt and looked like a croquet mallet to take a better look. “It looks healthy, and the x-ray doesn’t show any problems”, he said, “but the one behind it is fractured. That’s probably the one that’s hurting.” So he put a $900 crown on Number 20. Or would that be Number 18?

Number 19 continued to hurt, and I went back this morning. He decided it was time for a root canal. I’d been prepared for this, but I still mumbled, “okay, well, let me arrange some time off work and call back to make an appointment. Will you be referring me to an endodontist?” “Nope,” he said. “I’ll do it right now.”

My dentist is a one-stop shop. I’m not sure if I really like him, but then . . . who wants to socialize with their dentist? There’s something that bugs me about the place. He works on two, sometimes three patients at once. Does anyone else have a dentist who does this? There are three cubicles, and his assistants do the easy stuff while he walks from cubicle to cubicle (changing gloves each time, fortunately) doing the difficult bits. I can handle it at the hairdresser if Christine cuts someone else’s hair while my highlights are kicking in, but not my dentist.

Getting back to the one-stop shop comment . . . my dentist not only does the root canal himself, but the permanent crown is made while you wait. While he was fitting it this morning, however, the novocaine started wearing off and my supposedly freshly killed tooth started throbbing. So now I have a permanent crown temporarily cemented over my new root canal. Back in two weeks.

Instead of going back to work I came home feeling very sorry for myself and crawled into bed. And I even got John to call my boss to tell him I wouldn’t be in. Call me a wimp. Wouldn’t you be if you were presented with a $1,775.00 bill for all the above? And that doesn’t even include the crown on the tooth that didn’t hurt.

Death of a tree

Well, they came back and finished the job. Now we shall grit our teeth and wait for the construction crews to arrive and disturb our peace and block our view. It’ll probably be townhomes but we’ll keep our fingers crossed for a tiny bungalow.

There’s something unpleasant about that stump. Each time I look at it, it seems to be saying “up yours.” Let’s hope that’s not the attitude of the developer.

Got any free time, Callie?

tree earliertree laterWhen I left for work this morning there were two men on the vacant lot next door chopping down the tree. My heart sank as I realized that time was up and that the lot owner must be preparing to build something nasty next door. Surprisingly enough, when I got home the tree was still there — a little worse for wear, but still there.

So . . . I suppose they either gave it a good prune or they went off to find some bigger tools to finish the job.

We need to get Callie over to give it a hug.