How Do They Do It?

At 9 am on Monday I wheeled old Betsy into the garage I frequent for her latest oil change and settled into one of the couches in their waiting room. (I’ve written about this spot before:Waiting Room Heaven)

Cold Winter Mornings versus Hot Summer Mornings

Yesterday the forecast was for in the 90s and we still hadn’t put any air conditioners in our windows.

I knew that after the temperature passed 85 degrees I would be as immobile as the faces on Easter Island.

Today's Thoughts

I was paying my Kohl’s bill today – you know the place: coupons of 10, 20,30% off that constantly appear in your mail, a perpetual massive sale, and “Kohl’s cash,” the purpose of which is to bring you back to redeem it a week later.

 (An experienced shopper friend of mine often says, “Kohls is crack”)

And the Circle is Unbroken

Our town recently hosted its second reenactment of the great Hill Climb;

Tartar City

Today I rediscovered the truth of the premise that nothing learned is ever really wasted. I had the arms of my chair in a death grip as I breathed in and out, trying to focus on some other body part in an attempt to return to the Lamaze breathing exercises of almost 42 years ago. My dental hygienist Jenn – whom I honestly like when she doesn’t have an implement in her hand – was cleaning my teeth. She was employing that tool of Satan, the waterpik, which shoots sub-arctic water beneath my gums. 

          This would all be perfectly fine if I didn’t have :

1. a pain threshold lower than a nine-day veteran of the Iron Maiden
2. aging gums that have rolled up like 8 pm small-town sidewalks.
3. aging teeth with more cracks than a pre-Civil War house foundation.

By now she knows who she’s dealing with, and bless her heart, she

numbs my entire mouth before approaching me. Still, we have the occasional exciting moment when she hits a live wire in a tooth and I suddenly levitate an inch or two above the chair while water is sprayed liberally over both of us.

          Today while I waited for the next inevitable jolt of pain, I tried to transport my mind somewhere else. This time I not only employed the breathing exercises that brought my now-41 year-old son into the world (deep breath, release slowly, focus on my left knee cap or pinky finger), but I also threw in a few butt clenches and Kegel contractions. 

          I figured I might not have any control over the events in my mouth, but at least I’d come away with a firm derriere and a decreased chance of incontinence.

         

Bikes and Bridges

We set off for another bike trip a couple of days ago. It would surely be more successful than the last one when we found ourselves in a car with no brakes. 

Out of Body, Out of (my) Mind

          I was running a tad late the other morning, caused as usual by a few too many minutes in front of what a non-techno friend calls “the machine”, aka my computer. Amazing how it can suck up time like a chamois on a wet car.