October 18, 5:45 a.m. We have a tornado warning. Should be really bad by the time the product in my hair is dry. I may get a good look today. Yesterday on the way to a 2 hour meeting at the administration building, I broke off a crown. I happened to be eating at least 2 milk duds at the same time and one of them had a hard crunchy center-- was it that stale? No it was part of my dental work. There's a reason I haven't had them since high school! I called the dentist from the coffee shop and they got me in in an hour. I had to leave the meeting early and the dentist, I call him the best dentist in the world, worked for about an hour. I am glad I didn't lie and say I broke it on celery or carrots because I had to go to the car and get it to see if it was all of a piece. It is hard to melt off the milk dud in a sink with no drain cover-- and the crown was ok, but not the piece of tooth that went with it! While I was there, I learned that in the history of teeth and dentistry, the Scots liked to get all their teeth pulled by age 25, that might explain my dad wanting all my teeth pulled at 17-- not just innate meanness, and that the horrible conditions and pain of dentistry is why dentists had the highest rate of suicide in the past. I have often thought of my grandmother who had all her teeth out well before good anesthetic.
My girls' cat that they got in 7th grade, and now they are 30, has left the house. She had turned from a youthful acting and looking cat to an aging cat in the past month and went out one day and did not come back. I think she has done that cat thing of going off and dying. She was not a cat to leave the yard or go in the street. She had two or three generations of special cat knowledge to not ever go in the street or step out the front door when a vehicle of any kind was coming down the street. We once had a cat who ran under the wheels of a snack time truck and the tire actually touched his fur-- I saw this. He became a cat who would not go out the front door if there was a car on the street, and all other cats who came here to live learned that from him. Then it was passed down when he was gone. That generational knowledge is gone. Whenever we had a cat that disappeared, Yoshi would stay in the house for a year at a time, she seemed to get that something "out there" had happened and she wasn't taking any chances. We got the name from "The Sign of the Chrysanthemum" by Katherine Paterson. I am not in the mood to have another cat, maybe not ever. We'll see how I feel about it in a few years. Ok, I have been up a long time already, I have forgotten to check the water for my oatmeal twice! and it is time for my reliable cell phone to ring its alarm to get me up.