Merry Christmas

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MERRY CHRISTMAS

This is a greeting you will probably now be fed up from hearing so I'm saying it for the final time.

The clue is in the title so after all the hard work you have been through preparing for the big day I would recommend that once the sun has set, you close the curtains, put your feet up, have a merry drink or two.

And remember as we say in my part of the world! Take it easy.

Regards

Mark.

 

 

Guilt

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One thing that has annoyed me recently is the incessant guilt a lot of people, companies, and especially some charities throw at you during the festive period. This time of year is basically a time of celebration for the birth of Jesus, for everyone to enjoy. A time for friendship, peace, and to give freely your love to others.

The other day I settled down in the lounge with my laptop while the television played in the background. For the next hour there was a continuous procession of tear jerking adverts, one after the after from charities mostly about animals from Donkey's to Elephants begging for your money. All they wanted was just a few pounds every month and you could save the world.

I got fed up and decided to get away from the guilt trip the adverts had put me through, so I headed into Norwich City Centre to purchase a gift or two. Within five minutes of arriving I passed three people pleading for me to buy the big issue, three street beggars with their pit bull dogs, three charity collectors, and a host of groups singing while collecting money at the same time.

I hadn't given a penny to any and went home after half an hour feeling miserable. The guilt I felt for not giving to all these different people burned in me like a red hot star. From guilt to misery this grew into frustration which lead to anger, and finally rage.

Why should I be pissed off with all these people because at the end of the day me and my family give freely though out the year without seeking reward! So why should we be made to feel guilty now?. The wife and I give our blood freely three times a year through the British blood service. Every year my wife completes The Race for Life which raises money for Cancer research, and in the just six months my personal effort raised thousands of pound for a new disabled toilet in the parish church. Throughout the year we both give out time for voluntary work at our children's primary school, and for a couple of hours for two days a week I help out at Norwich Cathedral and the Parish Church.

Then there is out home. It is very rare for a week to go by without somebody enjoying our hospitality. This weekend a friend of my wife from London is staying then this Wednesday on Christmas Day I will be cooking for nine people while the wife hurries about the house keeping them entertained, then before we even get into the New Year celebrations people will be staying over night.

Don't get me wrong, to me it's not a burden because I love every minute of it.

On Monday morning while we are completing our final Christmas shop we will make sure there are a few extra items which we will donate to the local food bank. I don't want to make myself out to be some angel because I'm not. I've just overdosed on all the begging and I know most people are the same, because the other night when the local Round Table came walking up our street knocking on doors with a big Father Christmas in tow behind a car; collecting money in buckets for charity my children quite gladly handed over some of their pocket money. But I noticed that although all the neighbours where in not one of them came to the door.

So don't feel guilty this Christmas because it's not about giving money, or presents. The true meaning of Christmas is giving your love freely to others.

Regards

Mark.

Driller Killer

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I was still twenty feet from the building and I could hear it already! Yes, one of the most dreadful sounds around; a sound that pierces every nerve in your body, the sound of the dentists drill.

As I walked nearer to the door of the reception the noise of Satan's revenge got louder, and with the dreadful pain I have been suffering over the weekend this was a sound I expected to feel within the hour. Images of that poor person sitting on a fake leather recliner with their mouth wide open while trying not to wiggle with pain filled my head with horror.

Yes in dead, two weeks after having a filling replaced during an emergency visit and my tooth was not only throbbing with pain, but since unwisely chewing  on some gum, my whole jaw was as well.

In was now Monday afternoon three days after that fatal experience with the gum. The previous Friday the whole family had assembled again at the Parish church to watch this time our children's school Christmas carol service. My daughter was performing a solo piece playing her flute while my son was playing in the ukulele group.

I had had some garlic bread with my supper that evening, and thought it wise to suck on some minty fresh gum because I didn't want to stink among the four hundred people in the audience. The show was a great success and at one point it brought tears to my eyes. During all this emotion I forget about my dodgy tooth, and chewed away like a mad man.

We got home quite late after I helped to clear up and put things away. By the time the little ones were in bed, and I sat down on the sofa with the good wife my jaw had started to ache. A nagging ache at first, but like with the wife I thought it would stop in the end, or just go away.

How wrong was I?

I was in agony and swallowed ever pain killer I could find in the house. It did no good. I couldn't get to sleep and spent the night in the lounge with the laptop on while writing a chapter to Daniel Jones Doom the sequel to Frenzy a Daniel Jones story,

Saturday morning I went straight to the local pharmacy and bought two different types of very strong pain killers, plus some special extra strength tooth gel pain relief. I spent the weekend drugged up enough just to numb the pain while not over-dosing at the same time. It shows you how much I was suffering because I really wanted to go to the follow up dentist appointment that had been made after my previous visit.

The pain had spread at one pint all over my jaw from the ear to my throat and felt like I had been abused in a torture chamber. Still, when I heard that driller killer sound of the dentist drill my soul wanted to run away.

I thought I would loose my tooth, but I was only in the building for fifteen minutes with only five minutes in that dreaded chair. I wanted the problem sorted out there and then. I didn't want to have to suffer over the festive period. I wanted to enjoy Christmas pain free, but as I say there is always a but, I'm still suffering at I write this very blog.

The very pretty lady dentist gave me a prescription for some antibiotics to take for a week. She couldn't find anything wrong with my teeth. If it isn't an infection then she stated I would have to have canal-root treatment. It all sounded very painful indeed. Two different visits of up to an hour each, spread over two weeks, while my suspect tooth is drilled to within an inch of it life, the nerves killed off, and the tooth rebuilt sounded like a hellish experience to me.

The only problem is that the nearest date it can be done is in February 2014! another eight weeks of possible pain. So once again it seems I'm always-hanging-around.

The title of my blog sums up very nicely how we mostly lead our lives; we are always hanging around for something although because it is the season to be jolly, and if the antibiotics don't work, then I'm going to buy myself a nice (and large) bottle of brandy because I have heard its one of the best pain killers around.

As they say, every cloud has a silver lining.

Regards

Mark.

P.S my little experiment as I mentioned in my previous blog (It's not looking good) has led to me loosing two pounds in weight in two weeks. Not spectacular I know but if I do need to have further dental treatment, and I carry on shedding pounds then I could loose up to a stone by the time this is all over.

God does work in mysterious ways.

Tis the season to be jolly

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Tis the season to be jolly tra la la la la la la.....

Yes Christmas has come around once again and on Sunday afternoon I ventured into the garage to retrieve the step-ladder, then two minutes later my head was peering into the cold void that is our loft.

The dear wife was at hand so I could pass down to her the various boxes that hold all our Christmas treasures; while the children enthusiastically offered to pull everything out of the packages before we even had a chance to take them down stairs to the lounge.

We have fallen into a routine over the years since the first Christmas together in our first home, and that is the good lady prepares the tree, while I'm out side putting up the ickle lights. There's no point in getting older without getting wiser. Now before I spend an hour outside in the freezing cold delicately places the lights around the guttering, only to find some don't work when I switch them on, I check them inside first. I do find it amazing that every year you put the lights back in their box in full working order, then store them safely without touching them, only to find that a third of them won't work as soon as you get them out a year later. Why is that? Are there fairies living in Mark Kings loft having a frenzy of a time while partying with my ickle lights? It makes you think!

The children were great at pulling things out of boxes when asked not too, but after an hour their enthusiasm had waned. They were more interested in eating the chocolates bought especially to hang on the tree. We held out nerve to their pleas for relief from starvation, and all they got to eat were apples. The dear wife was flagging as well because she painted the town red with her friends the night before, and although she had a lay in until mid-day she would have been more than happy to have stayed in bed all day.

Once my lighting duties were finished I headed to the kitchen and started on the Sunday roast. I gave my usual cooking drink of English cider a miss and enjoyed a bottle of Australian red wine instead, and by five o clock the decorations were up, our late lunch ready, and everyone sat around the table ready to tuck in.

I'm so glad we can enjoy such an event as Christmas during the long, dark, cold, and wet British winter. Although the true meaning for most people in our consumerist society has been lost in a splurge of debt induced spending. For me watching my children's school nativity plays which were held in the parish church, and were packed to the rafters with happy, smiling, and for forty minutes at least, united people in peaceful surroundings sums up the true meaning of Christmas.

Regards

Mark.

Pippin

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For my readers who have followed my weekly postings from the beginning you will know that one of the major events of recent years that has effected the path my life has taken was the death of my father-in-law.

My mother -in-law's life fell apart over just a short few years. The wife's side of the family was small, but very close nit, and in just three years my mother-in-law lost not only her Husband, but her own mother, father, mother-in-law, and brother-in-law. When her only sister moved away to be nearer to her own daughter the cycle was complete.

Other than my bother-in-law there was nobody in her life except for my wife and our two children. The loneliness was so dark the sadness radiated from her soul like a black whole. We have  been her whole life over these dark years especially her grand children. Wow betide any person who dares to upset them in her presence, and that includes me. If I tick off my children for being naughty they run into her protective arms and stay hugged in its security like the star ship Enterprise behind it's shields.

I have suggested over these years that we get her a puppy to keep her company, and hopefully lift her spirits, but as always there's a but, because she has been allergic to animals all her life so has not had a pet she was a little girl. Then one day fait took a funny turn. The good wife and myself were sitting in the vets with our cat waiting for her yearly check up and jabs, when a lady walked in carrying a little fluffy white dog.

It was so cute and we couldn't help but make a fuss of it. The lady said it was a pedigree Bijon and that they make wonderful pets especially for people who suffer from allergies. Well my ears pricked up and I nudged the wife, 'this is just the thing your mother needs.'

She nodded and then we were called into the examination room by the vet, so in we went carrying the box which contained our cat who had been meowing from the moment we left our home.

All was well with Sunny and as I drove back we talked about the prospects of a new friend for my mother-in-law. My dear wife was nervous about it, but nevertheless she spent months on the internet finding out all she could about Bijons, and checking out respectable breeders.

The long and short of this story is that a few a weeks ago my mother-in-law picked up her Bijon puppy and named him Pippin, and last week Pippin made his first visit to our home. He is a white fluff-ball of fun with lovable, but at the same time cheeky brown eyes that just pierces your heart with love.

He ran about our home in a frenzy and chewed on every corner he could find. There was the odd accident in the toilet department,  and by the time he left the house it had been turned up side down, but what fun we all had with him, and we can't wait until he visits again.

The best thing about it all is that when the mother-in-laws car drove away that evening with young pippin peering out of the back window; the dear wife and I were happy in the knowledge that she won't be going home lonely, and would have someone to snuggle with in front of the television that night.

And that is something I am truly thankful for.

Regards

Mark.

It's not looking good.

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It's not looking good. Two days after having a filling replaced during an emergency visit to my dentist, and things aren't feeling good.

The first night after my visit I didn't feel any pain. Problem solved thought I! How wrong I was again? It seems that although the numbness from the various mouth injections had worn off it was still having a pain killing effect on the gums around my dodgy tooth.

Twenty four hours later I felt a bit peckish and went to the fridge and buttered a piece of seeded white bread. I took a bit and chewed, but after the fourth, and final bite, I thought I felt a slight tinge of pain in my mouth. As normal I tried to ignore it, but it was no good because by this Wednesday the pain relief had worn off fully, and I was suffering as much pain after my dentist visit as before I went.

On Thursday morning I went to the Denmark Café for my weekly breakfast treat of two cheese on toast plus mugs of tea, and by the time I left my jaw ached liked I had tried to chew a swarm of angry African killer bees. I was prepared to phone the dentist again for another emergency appointment because having to wait for a week and half for my follow up check seemed to long to wait.

But, and as I say there is always a but, I have decided to wait for the appointment.

Why is this you may well ask? Why would I want to go through another ten days of pain when I could get it looked at within 24 hours? Has Mark King gone into some mad frenzy?

Well the reason is I noticed I suffer the most pain when I eat, that is when I'm chewing. I've also noticed that over the last two days I haven't snacked at all, and I think this is because I don't want to go through the pain that I will suffer. I've also noticed when I eat a main meal I'm chewing very slowly using the other side of my mouth which I don't normally use, and because of this I'm not gulping my food down, and feel fuller after my meal.

People do say there is normally method in most madness so I'm going to try a little experiment. I'm going to see if I will loose any weight over the next ten days!

I suppose it's a bit like people who use those barbaric electric dog collars to train puppies. When they are naughty it gets an electric shock so the puppy thinks twice about doing it again. Well my tooth is the electric collar, if I'm naughty and raid the fridge, or the biscuit tin, then I will suffer pain.

It might sound crazy, but so is giving up a secure job during the worst reason the world has seen since the great depression to write a book when you have no experience. This is just as crazy, so you could say I have a track record in craziness.

Then again I am British and as the old saying goes; only mad-dogs and English men go out in the mid day sun.

I will keep you informed on how I get on over the next week or so.

Regards
Mark.

P.s
I don't let know if I will suffer any pain while drinking beer. I have suffered with cold drinks so this weekend I will be keeping to English ale served in the traditional way, and that is at room temperature. If I do suffer why supping my favourite pint of Fat Cat Honey ale then my experiment might not last the ten days.

As numb as a Snow Leopard's backside.

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I went to the dentist a couple of months ago for my annual check up. It went without a hitch, I had a sensitive spot but thought nothing of it; but, and as you know by now there is always a but, I was wrong once again. Slowly the pain has been increasing. I tried to ignore it at first like most men do, but since the weather has turned rather chilly over the last week or so the pain has increased.

I phoned the dentist two weeks ago and they said I would have to ask for an emergency appointment and to phone back the next morning at 8am. Did I do this? What do you think? No of course I didn't! I did what all men do and that was to try and ignore it.

It wasn't any good because by this Sunday evening my jaw ached no matter how much paracetamol I pumped into my system; so by 8am Monday morning I was on the phone and after my third attempt I got an appointment for 10am.

The dentist is only a five minute work from my home. I arrived on time and was in the chair within a few minutes. I remember in my youth there was a craze for some pubs to have a dentist's chair. The challenge would be to sit in it while the bar-man poured some cheap, but neat, spirit from the bottle straight down your throat.

As I walked into the room with its sterile features, the dentist and his two female assistants I wished at that moment I was back in some smoked filled boozer with a dentist chair, my friends and plenty of booze. Instead I got a mouth full of painful injections that made my gums, cheek, and lips go as numb as a Snow leopard's backside.

Then there was the dreaded drill. Apparently it looked like I had a small fracture in my tooth so the filling would have to be removed and then replaced. With the two young lady assistants helping the dentist I tried to be as manly about it as possible.  Even with a numb mouth you can still feel the drill doing its worst, and as I laid in the chair of doom with a pair of silly sun glasses on that I was asked to wear, the sweat started to form on my brow.

When I was told that I could now swill my mouth out I thought he had finished only to be told that that he had taken some plaque off, and would now start to remove the filling. Fu#k me, I thought what hell have I got to go through now?

So he went into my mouth once again and the drilling started. It seemed to last for hours, and every few minutes I would flinch as the odd short, sharp, shock of pain, shot across my jaw. At one stage a bead of sweat trickled down the back of my skull itching like mad on its decent, but I couldn't scratch it in case it made the drill slip, and with that my final piece of dignity which I was still trying to hold onto.

In the end it was all over, well that's what I thought but I was told that only a temporary filling was put in to see if it has sorted out the problem, and that I would have to return in two weeks! If it's ok then it can stay in for a couple of years, and if it isn't then I'm back in the chair of doom for another session of driller killer.

So over the next two weeks I will be praying that pain goes away, and I won't have to go through that again for some years to come.

Regards
Mark