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Tuesday September 12th 2017Tim Candler9

 

      False teeth wise, my own are improving. My S's will reach "suffering succotash" and "shall we shan't we insist on soots" without causing mirth. Which is good and important news for the totally self absorbed. Weather today is bright, breezy and there's a suggestion of river bloom, which for those who might not know is a cross between the smell of Romney Marsh sheep, Seaweed and fresh water Snail that reminds some of the sort of soup a person is obliged to praise because it cost so much money at a ludicrously expensive candle light driven restaurant that specializes in the nuances within the flavor "umami" or "tope," I forget which.

 

Past

     Gums, I am told, will take around two months to recover from the indignity of having all their teeth removed. Fortunately I've been keeping track, and while it does feel like around two years of being without upper teeth of my own, it's actually been less than three weeks. This morning I had what the dental professionals call an "adjustment." Basically, while the patient is being engaged by chit-chat around recent events in the Swamps of Florida, the false teeth are subjected to a grinding tool that sounds like a dentist's drill. And it would seem I must have developed a more personal relationship with my new teeth. Listening to what was happening to them, I felt rather sorry for them.

 

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