I take real exception to the Farmer’s Almanac for their characterization of our weather here as “the worst.” This is clearly a case of looking at statistics on paper, and then passing judgement on a place based on some sort of Florida standards or something, without actually ever having seen it. Oh, sorry, we don’t have brown, shriveled-up grass (and people) that crunches when you walk on it, and we don’t have giant mutant cockroaches that we call “palmetto bugs” in an attempt to fool people into thinking they aren’t giant fucking cockroaches. Yes, we do get a little snow around here, and, sure, when it snows nearly every day you get some clouds, but the beauty of the snow in the trees and on the hills never fails to fill me with awe. When I’m out on the tractor plowing the driveway as the sun begins to poke its orange head above the horizon, and the little herd of a half dozen or so deer that live in our woods go leaping across the corn field, the last thing I feel is gloomy. I mean, if living inside a picture postcard or a Normal Rockwell painting is the “worst,” then go ahead, do your worst – it’s OK by me. So, screw you, Farmer’s Almanac^*. You forecast like an astrologer does a horoscope – vaguely worded with enough thrown in to cover your ass no matter what happen. Give me the woolly bear caterpillar any day.

Fran Tarkenton is 71 today. I guess you either know who he is, or you don’t. I haven’t seen him in a while, but I bet he’s in pretty good shape, because for every step forward he takes, he runs about 100 yards sideways.

Today is yet another dental day for me. Far from dreading it, I actually look upon these days as a welcome diversion from work for an hour or two. This should tell you how much I’m loving work (just kidding, I love my job and intend to keep working well past the day I can retire, which is about 13 years, 2 months, 28 days and 11 hours from now – not that I’m counting).

But (sadly for diversion purposes, but happily in terms of money I don’t really have to throw away on personal health) other than a follow-up in a week to test the quality of my interstitial brushing techniques – it should be the last dental date for a while – assuming isn’t having a Shivaji Jayanti 2-for-1 sale or something.

The next phase of my dental care is supposed to be the replacement of the two crowns I have, which he says weren’t very well done. I’m not sure what my cut of the expenses on those would be, but I think I saw that they go for $925 each, and typically my insurance only seems to pay 50%. Looks like my cut of the expenses on these will be $325. Sadly, I just don’t have a grand $650 to drop on getting them replaced right now. Not unless they break and fall off and start to hurt. And even then I’d have to think about it.

Beyond the crowns, he wants to install implants to replace two of the teeth that have gone missing. I think these go for $2,000 each. Since these are in the back someplace and I’ve long since learned to live without them, there’s NFW that’ll ever happen. I’d sooner buy a backhoe for my tractor (or, better yet, a mini excavator; if you’re looking at getting me an early Christmas present, please consider a Bobcat 328, and don’t forget to add a thumb for the bucket so I can pick up trees and stuff – I have some serious trailblazing to do come spring).

Oh well, time to do my due diligence and make sure my teeth are all that they can be before I go in.

Have a good one.

^* Note, I don’t actually give a shit, and do plenty of bitching about the weather myself, though given the fact that we don’t have hurricanes, tornadoes, or earthquakes (not that earthquakes are technically ‘weather’, I suppose), I can think of worse places.