A coronation of sorts

My tooth has now been crowned. No agony, I have to say. In fact I was only at the dentist for a short time – and that included patching up my other broken tooth.

Only problem, the dentist asked me several times to bite and then asked me if the new tooth bit on the bottom teeth before the rest. In between he filed bits off (I assume). When I said I thought it was OK, the put the cement on. After that I wasn’t so sure. But it was a bit irrevocable by then. What are these crowns made of? Presumably they don’t wear down like ordinary teeth. So whereas, for the past few weeks, my tongue has been exploring the rough edges of the broken tooth and checking up on the temporary replacement, now I shall be constantly grinding them to see if they meet each other properly. I came home and very gently subjected the teeth to a cheese sandwich. I sincerely hope not to be going back for some months.

We cut down some of our laurel hedge over the weekend. Our neighbour used his chain saw to cut some of the thickest branches. People moan about leylandii, but laurel can grow to a great height too. These are just the clippings:

There’s a new book out about Jenny Churchill, Winston’s mother, I heard on the radio in the last couple of days. She died when she was 67, falling down the stairs because (apparently) she loved wearing high heeled shoes. I can remember my mother visiting me in high heels when she was over seventy. I used to meet her at Guildford Station and was horrified when I saw her descending from the train in stilettos. I hardly ever wear high heels now – my mother would probably be horrified at me being so square.

I had a look at the range of short story competitions during the weekend and quickly sent off three stories to Honiton in Devon. Also spotted on my excel chart that it’s time for the HE Bates competition too. Goodness, hasn’t the year flown. Last year, I was placed fourth, so I’ve spent some time this evening sorting out some other stories to go to that. They allow emailed stories, though for some reason or other, they don’t want an emailed cheque. So I’ve been able to send them off by email, which cuts down on postage costs and avoids wastage of paper too. So even though I haven’t written any new stories recently, I feel as if I’ve done something useful.

We’re out of raspberries and strawberries, which are helping M to stick to his good intentions, so it’s back to Sainsbury’s tomorrow.