Yesterday-Things

We’re getting our Christmas Tree today! I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say on that topic later, but I wanted to update first on a couple yesterday-things.

First of all: I haven’t heard from ’Phaz yet on the fact he won the contest. When I do, I’ll get his permission to post pictures of his prize. Or not, if he wants to be a dink about it. Which I’m allowed to say because I know him. I would never say such a thing if one of you lovelies had won.

Second: thank you, thank you, thank you Nana Jan, for defending Josie’s Christmas Pudding against Anonymous (ahem) cake-sniffers!

Nana Jan says, and I quote: “There shouldn't be a problem with eating this - its been well preserved in three ways - the high sugar content (lollies don't go off because of the high sugar content), the high alcohol content (you don't throw away your whiskey when its a year old) and the vacuum sealed bag as well! It used to be a tradition to save the top tier of the wedding cake (fruit cake, similar to this fruit pudding) to eat at the first child's christening - that could be a year or two but the cake was well preserved by the sugar (not just the added sugar but the sugar in the dried fruit) and any alcohol it may have been soaked in.”

See, nay-sayers? And Nana Jan survived just fine! Plus, when I read her comment to Johnny, he remembered eating baby-cake as well. So we're going to eat that Christmas Pudding and we're going to love it. In fact, if I hadn't blogged about it here, we would probably have served it to the family without telling them its provenance and they never would have been the wiser! Now, however, we suspect we'll be the only people brave enough to put it in our mouths -- except for a single intrepid bleader up in New York State whose first name I only just now learned. How's that for a throw-down?

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I Love Upstate has offered – of her own volition – to taste, and blog about, Josie’s Year-Old Christmas Pudding. I ought to be able to get it out to her today if I can get a move on here, but it’s up to her to decide when to eat it. If she wanted to save it for Christmas, I wouldn’t blame her. That's what we plan to do.

Last but not least, regarding yesterday: I had my oral surgery. That whole shaving-away-the-bone thing I’ve been fretting over since September? I thought I had it scheduled for next week, but My Canadian Dentist called me Thursday night and asked if I could come in Friday morning.

“No” I said

“No?” she said.

“No I said!”

Well. It turned out what I had set up for next week was just a consultation, and after that there wasn’t an available appointment for the actual surgery until into the new year. My Canadian Dentist didn’t want me to have to wait that long, so she ran around and found a person to do it and a time to do it at and a room to do it in, and if I really couldn’t make it she would understand, but…

“O-kay,” I said.

“I was lying about the ‘no’ part,” I admitted.

“I can come.”

I was going to tell you all about this yesterday, and mewl and puke about it like I usually do, but I decided to sack up (as the Bard would say) and see how it went. So I did, and now it’s over, and I’m feeling about a billion times better than I thought I would have been.

It wasn't fun on the table (or chair, I suppose), that's for sure, but it didn't hurt. For some reason the Novocain refused to kick in, but I wasn’t shy about hollering for more. I came home feeling like I'd been kicked all over, went to bed, and Johnny made me scrambled eggs and mashed potatoes for dinner. Then, cocoa with Peeps. Or hot chocolate. Whatever.

I've got a whole complicated regimen of cleaning that I have to follow twice a day, and instructions on what and when I can and cannot eat and drink. But I'm really not in any pain, and the stitches are supposed to come out in a week – at which point, I believe, I can eat and clean like normal. So, all in all, it is nowhere near as bad as I fretted for three months about it being.

Oh, and when this doctor (who was, I believe, Syrian; I’ve had the g-d United Nations in my mouth these past few months. Reminds me of the early ’90s, only this time I’m paying them. Ba-dump-bump. Anyway…) when this doctor first looked in my mouth, he said: “You’ve had braces, yes?”

“Uh-uh,” I grunted.

“No?” he said. “God did that?” And then called all the students over to look at my perfect teeth. He had me open and close and smile and bite, and used a pointer to show them how everything was lined up just the way it should be. Later, when the assistant was talking up the merits of gold crowns over porcelain, Dr. Syrian interrupted him to say “Yes. Usually.

"But it would be a sin to do that here.”

I like Dr. Syrian!