I TACKLE some of the top items in the to-do list.

Despite not being able to concentrate much because of the toothache, I manage to get a few things out the way before going for the bus to the village. It gets me there half an hour before my appointment at the dentist so I go for a walk.

The dentist has a look round, takes and x-ray and then we talk options. I can have the tooth taken out…or I can have root canal treatment and a new crown. I’ve had root canal treatment before and I’m not sure I can face the two or three-hour long sessions, let alone a long wait due to backlog of folks waiting for treatment. The cost on the NHS would be over £300, so I don’t even let him go as far as telling em the private cost!

Plus, it’s hurting like fuck, so I ask him to take it out now if he can. Although relatively painless – other than the jab in the roof of my mouth – it’s still quite traumatic…and very final. but it’s done. And at just £18 for the x-ray and extraction it’s a no-brainer for someone strapped for cash!

The dentist recommends painkillers be taken before the jags wear off but it’s more than an hour’s walk home so I stop at the chemist for some painkillers, swallow the recommended dose and make for home.

I get a little work done when I get back then when darkness falls set the fire and have a nap on the sofa. next thing I kn ow it’s after 8pm, Margaret;s been home and put all the shopping away and I’m a little bewildered.

We eat and watch the final espisode of Ken Burns’ extensive Country Music documentary on PBS America then head off to bed…

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