Hazy Saturday

I'm not fond of visiting the dentist -- I never have been and I probably never will be. So when I lost a filling a few weeks ago, I decided to postpone having it fixed until after my family and I get settled in our new place.

Oh, sure, I made time for getting my concealed-carry permit. I made some time for family and, the sting of unemployment still fresh in my memory, I devoted the bulk of my time to my job. I didn't make any time, however, for a brief trip to the dentist.

Bad idea.

The neglected tooth got angry on Tuesday, the pain preventing me from getting more than four hours of sleep (total) between that night and Friday morning. With a weekend ahead and unable to ignore it any longer, yesterday my wife shuttled me to an oral surgeon's office.

Here I sit this morning, minus a wisdom tooth. The right side of my mouth is packed with gauze and there's Vicodin flowing through my system. While I appreciate being pain-free, I curse the chemically induced grogginess.

The good doctor ordered me to avoid bending or lifting for the next few days, which means that I won't be pitching-in with packing 'til mid-week. We should be in good shape for the move, though, and that brings me to the most pleasant of subjects -- our timetable for escaping these alcohellish digs.

The house officially becomes ours at noon on Thursday. We'll take possession 72 hours later, a week from tomorrow, after which a parade of workers -- electrician, plumber, carpet cleaner, guttermeister, cable guy, etc. -- will begin to do what needs doing. Moving Day is the last of April, just two weeks from yesterday.

We're all smiles here. Our host-tormentors still don't know why.

As I've mentioned before, we're acquiring the house from an endearingly old-fashioned woman who's lived there for 47 years. The other day she called to invite us to a pancake breakfast at the nearby community center -- it's her treat, and she's asked all of our soon-to-be next-door neighbors to join us.

She wants to introduce us in a formal way, essentially giving us her stamp of approval. That's the way it used to be, the way it should be, the gesture of passing goodwill without interruption or mystery.

That moment will mark the beginning of our new life in the village. I can't begin to tell you how great we feel right now.