Teeth and bosoms
Up to London this morning to get my broken tooth sorted. On the train, as I sat there feeling both wan and sweaty, nearby was a woman in her nineties, a jewish refugee from Hamburg in the 30s, who was bright as a button and radiating optimism and charm. It sounds a bit patronising to say people are inspirations, but she was one.
At the dentist I was told it would eventually need a cap but for the time being she patched it up. Decades since I had a filling, and my dentist did it with a resin which was set with ultraviolet light. I like and trust my dentist Lucinda in my old Strand on the Green stomping ground. I like the way she describes what is about to happen, and what does happen is usually fine.
Walking along by the river and remembered the first time I saw that view, as Janet and Ken's new lodger on one autumn day in the late eighties. It was the first place I'd lived in London that I really loved, that felt like somewhere that was somewhere.
As for me, I am still recovering slowly -- and have designated this week recovery week.
Funny note from Helen in Germany, I love this bit from her describing her choir work...
I even got a round of applause for having translated the text of "Of a Rose, a Lovely Rose" from the Magnificat into German. I also did a page with hints for the pronunciation - this was in my own interest, because it drives me crazy when 60 Germans pronounce the English words wrongly week after week. Herr Klotz is no help because his English is terrible. He reads out bits like "Out of her BUZZUM a blossom sprang," and every time I feel obliged to screech "BOSOM" from the back row, getting some strange looks.
Below Oliver's Island on the River Thames at low tide.
At the dentist I was told it would eventually need a cap but for the time being she patched it up. Decades since I had a filling, and my dentist did it with a resin which was set with ultraviolet light. I like and trust my dentist Lucinda in my old Strand on the Green stomping ground. I like the way she describes what is about to happen, and what does happen is usually fine.
Walking along by the river and remembered the first time I saw that view, as Janet and Ken's new lodger on one autumn day in the late eighties. It was the first place I'd lived in London that I really loved, that felt like somewhere that was somewhere.
Long FaceTime chat with Toby this evening, arrived in Chicago, and relating the full horror of taking Meatball the cat on the plane. He has weeks of well deserved holiday to look forward to.
As for me, I am still recovering slowly -- and have designated this week recovery week.
Funny note from Helen in Germany, I love this bit from her describing her choir work...
I even got a round of applause for having translated the text of "Of a Rose, a Lovely Rose" from the Magnificat into German. I also did a page with hints for the pronunciation - this was in my own interest, because it drives me crazy when 60 Germans pronounce the English words wrongly week after week. Herr Klotz is no help because his English is terrible. He reads out bits like "Out of her BUZZUM a blossom sprang," and every time I feel obliged to screech "BOSOM" from the back row, getting some strange looks.
Below Oliver's Island on the River Thames at low tide.
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