I learned today, while finishing my dental work, that where the lower teeth share nerves, the upper teeth have one nerve per tooth. Thus, it took sixteen or so shots of anesthetic to numb them. And I felt the needle go in each time, as the topical anesthetic didn’t work. Once it got shot in, though, I numbed up nicely and they fixed my teeth. Their opinion is that I need a lot of work done in there. It’s not my fault, they say. I just have too small a jaw to hold all of the big, strong, healthy teeth I have. The thought it that I need to have eight (!) teeth pulled. And get braces (not for cosmetics, they insist, but to fight the bone loss my mis-aligned incisors are causing). And, oddly enough, get the little membrane that connect my bottom lip to my bottom gums cut. It seems my chin muscles are so strong that the little membrane is actually pulling the gums aray from where they need to be. But besides all that, I’ve got wonderfully healthy teeth, and it’s clear I’ve got wonderfully healthy dental hygene. I’d think they were just buttering me up so they could get more money from me, but they said they’re done with me. There’s nothing more they can do, because me teeth are fine. I need to see an oral surgeon for this other work, as well as an orthadontist. I’ve been a great patient and all, but I have to move on. Except the cruddy insurance I’ve had to buy myself covers precisely 0% of the expected costs for all this. So I suppose I’ll just wait until either a) my company becomes wildely successful, or b) I get hired by a company with an excellent dental plan. Or c) low-prices robot space-age super teeth become available.

Guinness brewers are on strike, bringing shortages of Irish-brewed Guinness stout. Some professions are too vital to human existance to be allowed to strike. Here’s hoping the company gives in to whatever the brewers want.

Hockey season began last night after several months of warm-up games. The Saint Louis Blues, my team of choice, were shining in their first game against San Jose, the team that humiliated the Blues last year. And, thanks to the majic of TiVO, I started watching the game from the beginning, two hours after it had begun, and was caught up by the time it finished an hour later. I love my TiVO.

Our little rooster is learning how to crow. He doesn’t have any older brothers or a father or any sort of mentor, so he hs to figure it out all by himself. His harem of eleven hens is of no help. He can hear, off in the distance, our neighbor’s bantam rooster crowing every morning. This far-away crow has inspired him to get this whole crowing business figured out. He’s gotten the idea that it’s best to crow in the morning, lest the hens look at him funny. He’s worried about that a bit, because even though he’s cock of the walk, he’s pretty scrawny. Smaller than almost all the rest of the hens. I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear the old “I wouldn’t mate with you even if you were the last rooster in the coop” line, so he’s trying to impress the ladies any way he can. Except (and I can’t speak for the hens on this – perhaps they’re swooning) his crow is very, very funny. I laugh out loud every time I hear it. He’s got the cock-a-doodle down, but he’s having trouble with the follow through. He stands up tall, beats his wings, and lets out a mighty “Cock-a-doodle-{clearing of throat}!”. He’s determined, even if he has to crow through noon for the next few weeks, to get it right.

Though UK-specific, this Friends of the Earth Miracle-Gone campaign describes why buying peat or peat-derived compost for your garden is a bad idea. British peat, that is. In the US, most peat available for sale is Canadian peat (official Canadian government peat page here) is growing faster than it’s being harvested, according to the peat moss industry. Canadian peat is made from a different plant (mostly Spaghnum mosses) than the European peat bogs, and so only newly created peat, at the top of the bog, is useful for gardening and compost. When the top layers are scraped off, the bog is left to regenerate. There’s several ways to do this. In warmer climes, such as Australia, destruction of the bogs is a serious problem, indeed. The little peat pots you buy to start seeds in (such as those made by Jiffy) contain compressed Spaghnum moss and wood fiber. I’m using a few this year, though next year I’ll probably make my own out of recycled newspaper. The moral: know your peat. Some of it is very bad to use. Others, specifically Canadian Spaghnum peat, is apparently not bad at all. Hopefully, if there is an issue with Canadian peat, someone will read this and let me know.

Today is the fourtieth anniversary of Yuri Gagarin’s launch that made him the first human in space. Tonight is Yuri’s Night.

This morning I sat in a dentist’s chair for over two hours undergoing a Root Planing. It was uncomfortable, but necessary. Unlike the last time I underwent this procedure, the anesthetic worked. I can’t feel a thing in my lower mouth and chin, and so I’m dribbling. I just re-read that article I linked to, and then it struck me that the amount of money I made this quarter tutoring Calculus is exactly the amount I have to pay the dentist to scrape it off my teeth.

I just listened to one of the most moving things I’ve ever heard: The Thai Elephant Orchestra. These elphants were taught how to play oversided versions of traditional eastern instruments, including drums, string bass, and even harmonicas. The elephants were taught how to play them, were allowed to practice on their own on the instruments they chose, and were recorded after a few practice sessions. They were cued to start and stop, but were given no direction in between. The music is most beautiful. The page linked above has samples from the CD and a way to order. I heard them on the wonderful PRI radio program To the Best of Our Knowledge.

“Nightmare of the Retired School Crossing Guard” and other great works of art can be found at the online Museum of Depressionist Art. Found via PeterMe.

When I’d stopped checking, Jen Kitchen of whim & vinegar began weblogging again after a several month absence. Welcome back, Jen.