11 January 2007

maystone: (Love handles by iconomicon)
Neil Young: Heart of Gold, Jonathon Demme's film of Neil's concert, is on my TV right this very minute. I'm just . . . I'm so happy.

I love my Neil.
maystone: (Talk talk yak yak by ancarett)
I have a doctor! A personal physician! Or I will come Feb. 12 at 1:30 PM. No, really, this is cause for great jubilation because this is Canada, folks - where you've got universal health care but only about 15 doctors for the nation. Oh all right, I exaggerate. Make that 15 doctors for Ontario.

Drayton - one of the towns comprising our little, doesn't-really-exist-except-on-paper township - opened up their own health clinic about a year ago, and they recruited a couple new doctors. And I scored one! Our alpaca friends clued me in to the fact that they had openings for new patients, so I signed up three or four months ago; I just got the call this afternoon. When my friends were telling me about it, they also said to steer clear of one particular doctor there - whose name I can't remember now. Oh please don't let it be the doctor they've assigned to me. What are the odds? Sigh.

As it turns out, I have a sinus infection. Fortunately, my little wifey came to the rescue. (Really, the only reason I'm all psyched about a PCP is because she/he can write prescriptions and make referrals; Dar can't do those.) How did I discover said sinus infection? Funny you should ask. I usually have some pain and stuffiness in my left sinus, so I wasn't paying a great deal of attention to that. No, I was out in the barn feeding the alpacas and dodging spitballs (it was a particularly pissy bunch there this afternoon) when all of a sudden I caught this whiff of . . . well, it smelled like a rotten tooth. Ewww! Since Conchita had just spit at me, I thought that she was maybe having some dental problems. Although when I tried to get her to breathe on my on purpose, her breath seemed to be OK.

I came in and told Dar, and we talked it over. We both concluded that I was probably smelling the cud that she was trying to haul up to form a proper wicked spit wad. So I wandered away - - and I smelled it again. This time Pixel was all over me, so I thought maybe it was her having rolled around in the litter box or something. But about 10 minutes later I smelled it again. And this time I was completely alone. Yeah, I was smelling my own infected sinus. Is that gross or what?! (I've figured out that it happens when I turn my head in a certain position, so I'm trying not to do that anymore.) So I told Dar and she did a few diagnostics on me and now I'm on antibiotics for a while. So endeth this sad tale.

Against all odds the mailbox is still secured to the cockeyed post with faux duct tape. I bought some real duct tape this afternoon, and tomorrow I shall endeaver to really strap that sucker down. After the Mennonite wagon has passed by.

I was true to my word and did not watch Bush last night. I've been all over the blogs and the news today catching up, but I knew about most of what he was going to say anyway. Did you hear about the incursion into the Iranian diplomatic mission in Iraq? Bush is trying to provoke an incident so he can claim righteous cause for going to war with Iran. Someone has to stop him and his insane henchmen; I'm not convinced that the Dems are up to the job, and the whole situation is scaring the crap out of me.

I believe this calls for a drink.

August 2015

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