Well, I shouldn't have complained about a quiet last week. Within a week the Grim Reaper cut a swath through the entertainment (and sports, although I guess pro sports is technically entertainment) industry and we lost Paul Sorvino, David Warner, Tony Dow, Bernard Cribbins, Paul Coker Jr (with "Mad" magazine and Rankin-Bass), basketball great Bill Russell, Pat Carroll, and last because she was the crushing blow: the wonderful Nichelle Nichols. Every day was a one-two punch, especially Nichelle. I didn't think she was ageless, but she seemed timeless. Farewell, Bright Lady, now your trip to the stars has really begun.

In the meantime James was in such torment from his back molars he called the oral surgeon back and they got him in on Thursday for a consultation. The result of this was that he will have five teeth (!!!) out on Thursday the 4th, the day after his spinal steroid shots, so he will only have to go off Plavix once for both procedures. In the meantime, he's back to salt rinses and more Ambesol.

We also saw Dr. Friedman on Friday and he said the formerly infected toe looks great and the next time he sees podiatry should be for a trim.

I had to call the insurance company this week: a tree from our neighbor's yard blew into our yard. It broke right over the fence, gave a minor tap to the deck rail, and is now sitting there like a rolled-over 18-wheeler. Positives: it's not a big tree, but of course that means it won't meet our deductible, whatever that is, so we'll have to pay for it. But someone will have to do it, since the whole honkin' thing is covered with poison ivy. I got itchy just looking it over.

In the meantime, James is happy with the new food processor I picked up on Amazon Vine...

Labels: death, events, health, illness, Star Trek

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:19:00 PM

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