A Trip to the Dentist

So this morning at 8:30 a.m. I was in Salem at the dentist office.

I have been a patient in this office my entire life. I don't see the same dentist, though, because he died about 10 years ago.

The reason my dentist is in Salem is because my mother grew up in Salem and her job was in Salem. It was always easier to take us to doctors in Salem, and I didn't change after I became an adult. I tried but could never find another dentist I liked as well. The dentist I see now is okay, but mostly I never need anything but a cleaning.

However, now I needed something. In early August I had this ... thing come up on my lower lip. I thought it was trauma from a mouth guard I wear at night. I am a terrible teeth grinder when I sleep.

But the thing did not go away. Sunday I made the mistake of asking my husband to take a look at it.

He freaked.

He thought I had cancer or something, and insisted I make an appointment to see someone immediately.

I had no trouble getting in (and I wince when I write that, because I know Ms. Elenaeous had a terrible time finding help for her serious problem. I guess it makes a difference if you're an established patient.).

The wait this morning was not long and the dentist took merely a glance.

Mucocele, he pronounced.

A what?

This is a lesion/nodule thing that comes up when you have trauma to the saliva glad. I suspect my mouth guard is the culprit. Interestingly, this never came up yesterday when I attempted to research what the nodule might be.

The way the dentist talked, I had no choice but to have it surgically removed and I have an appointment next week with an oral surgeon. But upon reading on the Internet, I don't see that it is necessary. It could go away on its own.

I'll have to give this a think. I tend to shy away from unnecessary surgeries and this is certainly sounding like one.

On the other hand, the thing is in the way and if it doesn't go away it is going to be a nuisance.

Guess I need to see if insurance pays, too, before I make a final decision.

Books: Listen to the Silence

Listen to the Silence
By Marcia Muller
Read by Kathy Garver
Copyright 2000
Audiobook

This is the second Sharon McCone mystery series book I have listened to. According to Amazon, it's the 23 book in the series. I obviously have not been starting at the beginning.

This book rang a little false at times; McCone worries a lot about money but doesn't mind roaming across half the country in search of missing relatives after her father dies and she discovers she is really adopted.

The whys and whos of her adoption are interesting, and there is mystery and intrigue, but I had a difficult time really caring if McCone figured out her parentage or not.

Still, not a bad delivery and I suppose after 23 books about the same character you're bound to falter. The book may be better for hard core fans who have read many of her other works and have that background.

3 stars

Let's Go, Cavaliers!

Friday night it was the home game for LBHS. Cavaliers, dressed in red, playing the Hidden Valley Titans. Whoo!

LBHS is our alma mater. Go team!

The quarterback, handing off the ball, is my nephew. Go Number 8!

Unfortunately, the team was not playing so well, and lost.

I was in the marching band in high school. I was rather unimpressed with the school effort Friday night. Pretty sloppy, unfortunately, and having done it for four years myself I feel qualified to at least make that comment.

It was a very warm evening; I wish it could be that nice for all football games, although I understand that cooler weather brings forth hot chocolate and apple cider.

There were a gazillion youngsters (about age 10) roaming around the field, racing up and down the stands. There was a recognition of all the Recreation Teams, which is why all these young people were there.

As they were introduced at half-time, I watched as two burly men with LBHS on their hats shook hands with the (male) coaches of the boys little league teams and turned around and took drinks from their water bottles as the coaches of the cheerleaders (girls) walked by. Such blatant sexism had my blood boiling.

I don't recall so many people at football games when I was in school. Seems to me I saw more people under the bleachers back then than in them.

But that could be a faulty memory. And of course I was with the band, not roaming the field, so maybe I just didn't see.

Better luck next week, Cavaliers!

Books: Whiskey Sour

Whiskey Sour
By J. A. Konrath
Read by Susie Breck & Dick Hill
Copyright 2004
Audiobook

This book has a 40-year old female detective heroine, Jacqueline "Jack" Daniels, as the lead.

She is tough (too tough, she is man-tough), and the book is filled with some tossed-offed one-liners for laughs. The story is rather gory in places, with details of very vicious crimes against women.

Daniels and her partner Herb is assigned to a murder, which turns into serial murders. She becomes the target, she gets thrown off the case, she figures it out, (but still requires the assistance of a former (male) partner, heaven forbid a woman solve something on her own).

The author seemed to be trying for a cross between Evanovich and Cornwell at times - but the book failed in its efforts and never reached the level of writing of either one of those very good authors. It wasn't a bad thing to listen to but I don't plan to pick up any more of the books in this mystery series unless the library simply has nothing else that interests me when I go to look for something to listen to in the car.

2 stars

What Makes Me Happy

Yesterday as I came in, I saw a Tom Turkey (that's a male turkey; you can tell by their beard) and a small buck. They were not 25 feet from one another. Both turned to watch me in my car as I headed home.

It was a sweet sight.

When we came home last weekend, I saw that we missed knowing about a triple homicide in Alleghany County, bomb threats at the Salem Walmart, which apparently were part of a larger nationwide scam for money, the announcement from Senator John Warner (R) that he isn't going to run again, and the resignation of the US Attorney General.

Even though I am a news junkie, I can't say that I found any of that enthralling when I read through the old newspapers (I don't stop my papers like I should; I let my in-laws gather them for me, and then I read them when we get home. I consider staying informed part of my work.)

The news continues to be unenthralling, however. I don't know what it would take to thrall me, but this ain't it.

This, however, does make me happy whenever I see it:

Books: Can't Wait to Get to Heaven

Can't Wait to Get to Heaven
By Fannie Flagg
Copyright 2006
365 pages

Fannie Flagg, author of Fried Green Tomatoes, writes about southern small towns and the characters within.

I have read and enjoyed all of her books. This one delivered, but I confess I like her earlier works better.

Elner is an aged high-spirited town character who is stung to death by wasps whilst standing on a ladder picking figs. (We met Elner and the other characters in Standing in the Rainbow and Welcome to the World, Baby Girl.)

Her worry-wart niece, Norma, tries to make sense of this event.

Elner, meanwhile, goes to heaven and is given a piece of cake. She meets her sister, Norma's mother, Neighbor Dorothy, and a few other people (including Edison), before she is whisked back to earth. It wasn't her time.

She tells Norma of her experience and Norma tries to keep it quiet. Elner goes on to impart "life lessons" to everyone.

Later, Elner passes peacefully in her sleep, and there is a wrap-up of the way Elner's life has affected everyone around her (sort of like that Christmas classic).

There was some social commentary in the book - U.S. health care, in particular, gets jabbed at a few times. But this was more of "this is the way things are" than advocating change.

3 stars

Thursday Thirteen

Reasons why my weight loss efforts aren't working:

1. I have had plantar fasciitis in my feet since February, seriously curtailing my walking. I am riding a bike in the mornings, but I don't like it as well.

2. I like chocolate.

3. My husband insists on regular meals.

4. I nibble when I'm thinking.

5. I nibble when I'm upset.

6. I nibble when I'm alone (which is most of the time...)

7. My eating habits are much better than they were. At least I no longer have a bologna and catsup sandwich for breakfast.

8. In fact, I eat bread only about twice a month (and shouldn't eat it at all, since I have a wheat allergy).

9. I drink root beer and caffeine free Coke. I am not supposed to have caffeine. I shouldn't drink these at all, but I do. I won't drink diet colas because I think Splenda is chlorine and aspartame is rat poison.

10. I'm not sure what high fructose corn syrup is, but I strongly suspect it isn't good for me, either.

11. I actually eat very healthy these days - fruits, veggies, white meat more than red. Fish. Low fat, low sodium.

12. Still, the pounds remain and do not drop off.

13. I am trying to decide what to do next - I think getting my feet cured is the first step, so I can get back to walking. That really is the best exercise.

Books: Pieces of My Sister's Life

Pieces of My Sister's Life
By Elizabeth Joy Arnold
Copyright 2007
450 pages

The bonds of sisters are explored in this book, set on some island in the northern U.S.

Eve and Kerry are motherless, since their mother decided to walk out on the family when the twins were about six. Their father, who runs a boat for tourists, decided to raise them.

They have a neighbor friend, Justin, who tells fairy tales and whom they both love.

The story is told in flashback form, and the events go from the present, when Eve is dying of cancer, to the past. The reader learns how Kerry and Eve both fell in love with Justin, how they betrayed one another, and how Eve ended up with the boy.

There is an effort at reconciliation in the present day of the novel, but I didn't buy it. Kerry is telling this story, and I didn't like her very much. Her sister was even worse and Justin was a jerk.

That made it hard to get involved and read this as the tear-jerker I think it was meant to be. These characters came across as very selfish and hard people. The total lack of empathy, even among twins who were supposed to share some secret bond, was rather off-putting.

Still, I've read much worse, and some of the reviews at Amazon read like this is the best thing since bread, so I recommend this one for a rainy day in case there is something there I missed.

2.75 stars

Books: Daughter of the Forest

Daughter of the Forest
by Juliet Marillier
Copyright 2000
544 pages

One of the best fantasy books I have read in a while. The book is set in Ireland, in the time when Celtic myths reigned and fought against the incoming Christianity brought by the Britons.

Sorcha is the seventh child of a seventh child. Her mother died giving birth to her, and her six brothers essentially raised her while her father was off being tribal lord.

She and some of her brothers have mystic powers; they converse telepathically, for instance. She is a healer. She seems set on this path, but her father brings home a woman.

The new wife is an evil enchantress who eventually turns her brothers into swans. The lady of the forest tells Sorcha that only she can break the spell, but to do so, she must weave each brother a shirt from a horrid plant that cuts her hands and tears into her flesh. She also cannot speak until she has transformed her brothers back into men. She goes into seclusion to perform this task.

However, she is found by some very bad men who do what bad men do to lone women. She runs, and eventually is saved from drowning by Red, an Englishman who is searching for his lost brother. The brother is a man Sorcha once saved and she has a keepsake from him which Red recognizes. He takes her home to his manor in England.

Sorcha is not welcomed there, but Red insists she is his guest. She continues to work on her project, but Red has an evil uncle who wants her. Red leaves her to go back hunting for his brother, and the uncle takes control. He has Sorcha tried as a witch.

At the last moment, she turns her brothers back into men, and they, along with Red, keep her from being burned at the stake. One brother does not return all the way, however, because the shirt wasn't completely finished.

Sorcha returns home with her brothers, but realizes she is love with Red.

At home, the evil enchantress has fled with her son, leaving their father a shell of man. The estate is in ruins; the brothers set about to making things right.

Red turns up to claim Sorcha, and there is much rejoicing. However, the ending is not entirely happy - or sappy.

This book is very well written. The story line is solid, the characters well-crafted and the whole affair is nicely drawn. I will read more of this author's work.

4 stars

Vacation 2007 Part 2: Pleasant

Our journey from Roanoke to Myrtle Beach was rather uneventful. We stopped at David's produce market, somewhere between Greensboro, NC, and Ellerbe, to purchase tomatoes and a watermelon.

We arrived at Ocean Drive Resort around 4:30 p.m.



This is the backside of the hotel.

The motel room was spacious, if ill-designed:


The room had a fold-out bed to the right, leaving a lot of unused space. We had a king-sized bed, located in the very first room of the suite (not pictured). The bathroom, to the right of the kitchen area, was so tiny you nearly had to step outside of it to close the door. But we made out alright.

We ate at K&W Cafeteria.

Our days were spent at the beach. I have fair skin and burn very easily; I learned a long time ago to use a lot of lotion and sit in the shade where possible. Now that we can afford it, we rent the beach umbrellas. They cost $25 for the day, which we would never have paid when we were younger.



I wrote earlier about our dinners, so I won't repeat those.

Tuesday night we walked around Broadway at the Beach and the Tanger outlet. We also rode around to see what else was missing.

Wednesday, my husband received a sting from a jelly fish. I made him take Benedryl because he has some allergies. We put hydrocortizone and meat tenderizer on the big red splotch that came up on his leg.

We saw three other people get stung by jelly fish on Thursday. They were rather bad down there this year.

Wednesday after dinner, we went to the Carolina Opry to watch the "Good Vibrations" show.

We both enjoyed the music - I don't believe there was a single song we didn't know. The sounds we grew up with - 60s, 70s and 80s. The singers and dancers did a good job.

Thursday night we went to Bass Pro, where my husband spent a good deal of time wandering around.

Friday dawned cloudy, so we shopped all day. By mid-afternoon, the plantar fasciitis in my foot was troubling me so much that when I ran across a man selling "guaranteed" pain relief, I let him rub his magic oils into my foot.

It did provide some relief (I told my husband at the time the pain went from a 10 to a 3), and after some internal debate, because I can't recall ever forking over $50 for something like this, I gave the man his money and brought home a bottle.

I can't say yet whether this stuff works as promised.

We returned to the hotel and packed. Since it was Friday and the Labor Day weekend, the motel filled. People ran up and down the hall and banged doors and things most of the night.

I did not sleep well for the noise.

The ride back home was as uneventful as the trip back. We arrived home around 5:30 p.m. Saturday.

And thus endth our vacation, probably the only one we'll have this year.

Vacation 2007 Part 1: Changes

On Monday, 8/26/07, it was off to Myrtle Beach.

This is a favorite vacation spot. My husband and I both went there as children. We continued to go after we married. As a couple, we have been there 15 out of the 24 years we've been married; I think it is safe to say the two of us have been to Myrtle Beach more than 30 times over our lives.

We had not been for the last three years, however. We found many things changed.

The Pavilion, an amusement park and arcade, had been demolished (click here for a YouTube video about, or check out the others there, if you want to see what it looked like). The fun ended in 2006 and it made headlines.

Some of the rides have moved to Broadway at the Beach to the Pavilion Nostalgic Park, but it isn't the same.

We knew about the Pavilion before we left, of course.

We didn't know that the Myrtle Beach Grand Prix parks had been torn down and replaced by a shopping mall:


Another arcade park that we enjoyed, on 17th Avenue, had also been torn down, leaving us with no place to go to kill a few hours playing pool or video games.

We had expected to eat at our favorite restaurant, The Outrigger:



Instead we found this:



With the Outrigger gone, we didn't know where to go for a good meal.



We ended up at Bennett's on Tuesday night and Friday night. We tried Preston's on Wednesday night and The Farmer's Daughter Thursday night. My husband, especially, was so dismayed at the quality of the food (The Farmer's Daughter in particular was pretty terrible) he was afraid to try another new place on Friday and opted for the one that was at least palatable.

Aside from the obvious beach-sitting and swimming, Myrtle Beach has now become a place for golfing (including miniature golf) and shopping. The fun things, like arcades and rides, have diminished in favor of the things that bring in the most cash, it seems.

Change - love it or go someplace else, I guess.

Next up: Day-by-day.

Hiatus

Blue Country Magic will be silent until...
September 3, 2007.

Ya'll come back, ya hear?

Thanks for visiting. If you're a new visitor, please feel free to peruse the archives for pictures of deer, flowers, turkey, etc.

Dishwashing

The dishwasher has developed a rinsing problem, leaving heavy residue on the dishes.

This is not the end of the world. A dishwasher is not a necessity, not like, say a water heater.

But I despise washing dishes. I would rather clean the toilet.

Some of my friends greatly enjoy washing dishes, and own no dishwasher. They apparently love to stand by the sink, their hands growing wrinkly, while they play in filthy water contaminated with the dregs of their dinner.

It is not my thing.

I began washing dishes before I was five. My mother would stack books on a chair and then place me on top of the books with orders to wash the dishes.

My memories of doing this are rather painful.

I recall once, before I was six, my father had purchased some kind of reel-to-reel recording device. He had it in the kitchen, and I was instructed to be very quiet while I washed the dishes. Of course halfway through his song, I dropped the silverware. He knocked me off the chair.

Later, when I was about 9, my brother, three years my junior, "helped" by dumping the macaroni salad into the dishwater in the sink instead of into the trash. He vanished, and my mother came in as I tried to fish out the macaroni. She flew into a rage and, after making me empty the dishwasher and clean the sink, she proceeded to empty the cabinets of every dish in the place and forced me to stand there and wash each piece. I remember watching my tears splash into the dishwater.

And another time, when I was 9 or 10, I ended up staying alone in the house for what seemed like a very long while my parents and brother went fishing, because I had not finished the dishes in a timely manner. I remember being absolutely terrified at being alone.

So as you can see, washing the dishes is not something I have been very happy doing.

Which means that unless my husband can fix this dishwasher, which is a Whirlpool we purchased in 2003, I will be getting a new dishwasher pretty soon.

Because I Like Flowers

Marigolds smiling in the sunshine.

Blue pansies singing to the sky.

Books: How I Write

How I Write
By Janet Evanovich with Ina Yalof
Copyright 2006

I picked this up a while back out of curiousity. I write thousands of words a week but I am not writing fiction.

However, I would like to write fiction.

This book is mainly a question and answer, with the questions coming from Evanovich's website.

I was surprised at the number of ways Evanovich could answer the question "I want to be like you, how do I go about it?" People must ask that a lot.

I learned nothing new here but I think someone who hasn't ever seriously considered writing fiction but might like to would find this of interest. Which, judging from the questions, is a lot of people.

Since I've semi-seriously considered it at times, and done my homework about how to go about it, there was not much new information in here. Still, it was interesting to see how she goes about putting a book together.

3 stars

Remembrance

My mother passed away seven years ago today.

I wrote about it last year, which you can read here.

Funny thing, I had almost forgotten that this is the anniversary of her death. I have so much going on right now that it was far from my mind.

And then I ate a cookie.

My in-laws are away, and I was fetching their mail and newspaper. After I carried it into their house, I opened the pantry door and filched a cookie.

A Little Debbie Oatmeal Cookie, to be exact.

I couldn't remember the last time I had one of those. I peeled the wrapper and bit into it, feeling the creamy insides and the oatmeal cookie outside. Yum, my mouth said.

I call these cookies "granddaddy cookies" because my grandfather carried one to work with him in his lunch pail every day.

He was a warehouse foreman for Kroger in Salem. He worked there nearly 30 years. He must have worked from 7-4, if that is a shift, because he was always home at 4:30 p.m., at which time my grandmother had dinner on the table.

Granddaddy cookies were special treats. We weren't supposed to eat them. But if you had a need, like, say, you'd been beaten up by a young cousin or your favorite toy had broken, you could swing a Granddaddy cookie.

I can remember sitting on Grandma's lap, blubbering my little girl's heart out over some misdeed. "Sweetie, what can Grandma do to make you feel better," she'd say, rocking me gently, my head against her breast. I listened to her heart beat and the song she hummed in her throat. Sobbing, of course, with my thumb in my mouth.

And inevitably when she asked the question, I'd point toward the blue container where the Little Debbies hid. A Granddaddy cookie would soon be forthcoming, and all would be right in my world again.

I remembered all this as I headed home, eating my stolen cookie, and of course in the remembering, I thought of my mother, and then recalled the date.

Fate must've wanted to remind me, or I'd have never opened that pantry.

Thursday Thirteen

Great things about summer:

1. Vine-ripened tomatoes from your very own garden. A tomato and mayonnaise sandwich is hard to beat.

2. Locally grown Concord grapes. They have taste and are better than anything shipped from ... wherever it is they come from.

3. Cucumbers from your very own garden. A little vinegar and yum. They actually have taste!

4. Locally grown watermelon. Again, there's that taste thing.

5. Locally grown peaches. The peach crop is a little thin this year, thanks to a bad freeze, but they are delicious if you can find them.

6. Balmy evenings when you can sit outside and listen to the crickets, the tree frogs and the cows and never reach for a sweater.

7. Thunderstorms. (I like them, usually.)

8. Longer days.

9. Hot mornings when you sweat just walking out for the newspaper.

10. Fawns frolicking in the field beside the house.

11. Light breezes.

12. Slow moving rivers.

13. Flowers blooming in the yard.

Books: Lean Mean Thirteen

Lean Mean Thirteen
By Janet Evanovich
Copyright 2007

The latest in the Stephanie Plum, bounty hunter, series has our heroine blamed for the disappearance of her ex-husband, Dickie Orr.

She's also sleeping with Morelli and in the company of Ranger.

Lulu is her usual intriguing self. There are some explosions.

The last two books seem to me to have had a little change in tenor, a little sadder, maybe.

And this 13th adventure felt a bit formulaic to me. Still, it was a good way to spend some hours. I recommend all of Evanovich's books.

3.5 stars

Man Mowing Dirt

We have been very dry. Abnormally dry, although I am not sure what is normal anymore.

The latest report from the Virginia Department of Environmental Quality doesn't offer any clues as to when we will find relief.

Agriculture, so far, is feeling the effects of this lack of rain moreso than city dwellers. They've not been asked to ration their water - yet. This may come if the levels of streams and ponds continue to drop, though.

Water is a precious commodity. We try to conserve - we don't water the grass, for instance. We do water the garden but that's a food source.

However, the golf course on US 220 probably waters enough for a hundred families. Their sprinklers seem to be running 24/7.

Twenty-six counties so far have asked for federal assistance due to drought; Botetourt has it on its agenda for next week.

Farmers are selling off cattle because of lack of hay. Dairymen are already chopping corn, about two weeks early. What corn is there is not the yield that it should be.

We are already feeding hay to the cattle to supplement what little grass is in the pasture, and most likely we will be selling off part, if not all, of the herd.

The area is about 6 to 9 inches low in its rainfall totals for the year.

The trees are showing signs of distress, too. Leaves are turning already; some are simply yellowing and falling to the ground. It doesn't look like it will be a very pretty autumn.

Varmits in the Garden

I woke this morning to find that my tomato cages had been ripped up from the ground, and two of the posts holding my fence around the garden broken.

One of the tomato cages lay all the way down at the other fence, the one that keeps the cows out of the yard.

The tomato cages are *not* light; in fact, they are rather heavy.

The tomato plants, if not twisted up, have been heavily eaten and gnawed upon.

My hypothesis is a young buck got into the garden in spite of my little plastic fence (which has never been very good at keeping them away, anyway), and then his horns became ensnared in the tomato cage.

That is the only way I can account for the tomato cage being 20 feet away from the garden, anyway. It certainly would have taken one really huge rabbit to carry that thing that far!

I would have liked to have seen the buck trying to get that tomato cage loose, if that is indeed what happened. The poor thing probably panicked.

This evening I will try to repair the damage as best I can, but I suspect the life of my garden has been severely compromised.

Next year I think I need a better fence.