Although the Hockney exhibition was slated in the press (by those jealous of his success, I can't help feeling), I loved it. Surrounded by shapes and colour, I felt uplifted and energised and if art can do this, I wish I could visit the exhibition every day as it's better and healthier than Prozac!
On Saturday I went to view a cottage which I had high hopes of. Alas, it was everything I couldn't live with. Nowhere to stick my piano or books, tiny, poky kitchen, downstairs bathroom and ill-fitting double glazing. The poor family who were currently renting it were crammed into the bedroom while viewer after viewer trooped in and out. I should think someone will buy it for their portfolio of rental properties. It had that sad, neglected feeling of not having been a real home for a very long time.
Meanwhile, the lengthy saga of my teeth is still dragging on. I am now seeing a local dentist. He is an interesting man, a part-time actor, and very chatty. We get on well, but... he is private, with bills to match. Though his price for root canal and implants is less than that of the West End practice I was going to. He did some temporary root canal surgery to relieve the pain of the tooth beneath the large gap. To do this, he had to destroy the crown that the previous dentist made, which left a mere stump of a tooth, so the right-hand side of my mouth now looks like crumbling castle battlements.
I now have to decide whether or not I want the tooth out as, in his words, 'it has almost reached the point of being non-viable'. Meaning that I could spend a lot of money on it but, a few months or a couple of years hence, it would still have to come out. So... what shall I do? I have a nasty feeling that if I say, "Take it out," the rest of my teeth will start collapsing like a row of dominoes and I shall have to have a set of grinning white dentures. Mind you, they'd look a lot better than what's there right now! Plus, I'd never get toothache again.
Off to see War Horse (the film, not the play) tomorrow night. Bet I'll cry...
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3 comments:
I know what you mean about crumbling battlements for teeth and your fear about one coming out and the rest following! However, this dentist sounds like a good man who is not encouraging you to throw money away - money that you might need for decent dentures.
Sorry to hear that the cottage wasn't up to scratch. Sounded more like it might contain something that would make YOU scratch! I'm sure the right place will present itself eventually.
My cousin went to see War Horse on Sunday night and said I wouldn't need a pack of tissues to mop away the tears, more like a cushion and a bed sheet. :-(
I had my back lower molar out; couldn't afford the root canal. Dentist said the top one above it will probably fall out as it has nothing to support it, in 2-3 years or so. It's been 10+. No problems yet. Perhaps that reassures you?
Keep on with the house hunt. The right one HAS to be out there!
P.S - my sister, boyfriend and daughter went to see War Horse. Grab your tissues, they ALL cried.
My friend cancelled our War Horse trip tonight. It's on for tomorrow, if I'm not to shattered after tramping round the Tate Modern. All this art!
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