We are all able to look back on our lives, at any moment in time, and see the miracles and how they changed us.
Twenty-nine years ago today, our second baby girl was born; she is one of my miracles. Shelly came out sucking her thumb and was so content to look around and see what her new world was like. She stayed just that way for a long, long time - a happy, smiley little thing.
Today she is a beautiful, graceful young woman, full of kindness and always willing to put herself out to make someone else's day brighter. She is a true joy in all of our lives.
I'm not able to wish her Happy Birthday today because she is off in Thailand enjoying a well-deserved vacation with her husband and friends. I've had to send her birthday wishes on the wisps of the wind and I know that, somehow, she received them.
Happy Birthday sweet girl. I am soooo thankful that you are in our lives! I love you....
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Call Me a Wimp
Go ahead, you can do it - call me a Wimp. I can take it, or truth be told, I just don't have it in me at the moment to fight back.
The following should only be read by those not faint of heart....
So, I just had that infamous little cracked tooth removed, you know, the one that ever so graciously cracked off well below the gumline - yep, that's the one. So, two really good things happened:
Number one is that it was so difficult for my dentist to remove the cracked portion (read that as my mouth and jawline were aching, aching, aching when he was done) that I asked the periodontist to wait a week before removing the entire rest of the tooth. Number two is that I felt bad that I was only going to see the periodonist for a single visit, when he had gone to the trouble to get me in as an emergency the first time, that I decided that I would have him (remember - he's a surgeon) and not my dentist take out my tooth. Both of these turned out to be GREAT things.
Besides the fact that the Lidocaine required two additional shots to numb my mouth, which we found out when the Dr. started drilling away to intentionally crack the remaining tooth and I started flying out of the chair. So okay, that was pretty bad, but here was the really, really bad, but sort of good too, thing that happened: the jawbone stubbornly refused to let go of the roots (translation - it took twice as long, required cuts in the gumline, and true pushing/pulling on the tooth to get the bone to give it up!) However, I can now say with complete confidence that I have fantastic bone; I even have a Dr. willing to attest to it. He is left to wonder if it's the goat's milk/cheese!?!
I'm off to go imbibe on pain meds....
The following should only be read by those not faint of heart....
So, I just had that infamous little cracked tooth removed, you know, the one that ever so graciously cracked off well below the gumline - yep, that's the one. So, two really good things happened:
Number one is that it was so difficult for my dentist to remove the cracked portion (read that as my mouth and jawline were aching, aching, aching when he was done) that I asked the periodontist to wait a week before removing the entire rest of the tooth. Number two is that I felt bad that I was only going to see the periodonist for a single visit, when he had gone to the trouble to get me in as an emergency the first time, that I decided that I would have him (remember - he's a surgeon) and not my dentist take out my tooth. Both of these turned out to be GREAT things.
Besides the fact that the Lidocaine required two additional shots to numb my mouth, which we found out when the Dr. started drilling away to intentionally crack the remaining tooth and I started flying out of the chair. So okay, that was pretty bad, but here was the really, really bad, but sort of good too, thing that happened: the jawbone stubbornly refused to let go of the roots (translation - it took twice as long, required cuts in the gumline, and true pushing/pulling on the tooth to get the bone to give it up!) However, I can now say with complete confidence that I have fantastic bone; I even have a Dr. willing to attest to it. He is left to wonder if it's the goat's milk/cheese!?!
I'm off to go imbibe on pain meds....
Monday, November 1, 2010
Liquid Sunshine
My father was a research meteorologist. He worked for the USAF and then NOAA. I think rain was his favorite form of weather, especially with a rip-snorting thunderstorm.
You see, Dad was from Kansas where rains are few and far between in the summer months, the prarie grasses turn from green to brown very quickly, and there is lots and lots of dust. We didn't live in Kansas when I grew up, but his distinct dislike of the dry weather meant that pretty nearly everytime there was a summer rain, you would find my Dad sitting out on our covered back porch just watching the drops fall down, smoking his little cigars and drinking a martini (with a green olive - I loved those olives!)
Now if there was a thunderstorm rolling in he had me so convinced about how special they were that I'd pull up a chair and watch the entertainment, for hours sometimes, just watching and visiting. I still know the smell of a coming thunderstorm to this day.
Today it rained chickens, goats, and horses on the farm; it was a gully-whomper. Sadly, no thunderstorms but the rain was magnificent. Dad use to call it "liquid sunshine"; I think that was the Kansas boy talking.
You see, Dad was from Kansas where rains are few and far between in the summer months, the prarie grasses turn from green to brown very quickly, and there is lots and lots of dust. We didn't live in Kansas when I grew up, but his distinct dislike of the dry weather meant that pretty nearly everytime there was a summer rain, you would find my Dad sitting out on our covered back porch just watching the drops fall down, smoking his little cigars and drinking a martini (with a green olive - I loved those olives!)
Now if there was a thunderstorm rolling in he had me so convinced about how special they were that I'd pull up a chair and watch the entertainment, for hours sometimes, just watching and visiting. I still know the smell of a coming thunderstorm to this day.
Today it rained chickens, goats, and horses on the farm; it was a gully-whomper. Sadly, no thunderstorms but the rain was magnificent. Dad use to call it "liquid sunshine"; I think that was the Kansas boy talking.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
