Wednesday, September 8, 2010

The rationale re: toilets and anything else..

You may recall that a while back I was attempting to get at the subject of plungers and the sense of personal independence.  I will admit in truth, that with so many things that my little wandering brain picks up at the side of the road, the beginning of my thinking did not indicate that to you at all. 

beginning or end

Here is where this whole little ball of wax (ooh, gross!) began. I am now a skosh over 60 and depending on what my apparently low end body is doing, can feel like I am 16 or 160.  (Nooooo, I do not have any desire what so ever to discuss any one of my stupid chronic ailments.  There, aren't you relieved...)

So, back to the story: Early one afternoon, preparing to leave preparing to leave for the closest thing as a hot date I have these days : a visit with my dentist, who is mostly interested in my molars, I spent some time dipping into my bowls and  baskets of mystery preparations. 

(note to my husband: just in case you might by chance read oh baby, you are my hottest of hot dates, still after thirty years, but I have a story to tell. )

As PT BArnum has been given credit for quoting, mistakenly, I think, "there's a sucker born every minute."  This I suppose is a partial explanation of why I would spend so much as one cent on creams and elixiers promising to make me look forty years younger and come out looking like Julia Roberts.  I have never in my life looked like anything even remotely resembling Julia Roberts.

Still I recall a time in my life (extending into this, when I am sane), when I can slap on a little blusher on my somewhat pale face, call it "instant health" and head out the door.  Now my  primary concern was to floss well enough so that my charming and utterly non-judgemental dentist would encounter nothing larger than a chicken or dead longer than Jimmy Hoffa in the spaces between my teeth.

   ....time to stop now.  I promise to continue this tale of woe tomorrow.  At the moment my husband reminds me that it is tragically past my bedtime with lovely and plaintive "yoo-hoo's" from down the hall.  Who  could resist?  

love, peace and health to you. sopha chesterfield davenport

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