It's challenging to eat on one side of your mouth only.

I'm using my tongue as a wet, pliable wall between the left and right sides of my mouth. It is standing guard, like Gandolf, saying, YOU SHALL NOT PASS to any bits of food that might be thinking of zipping over to my favorite chewing side.

It's an exhausting ordeal. 

And, truthfully? I thought I'd be all healed up and eating normally by now.

This is not the case. 

My mouth hurts.

Oh the whining. It never ends around here.

Aside from my jaw aching, it's been a fine day.

I woke up to this:

Yes, that is, as a matter of fact, a topless fisherman.

I spent my time there inside, emptying the dishwasher, washing machine, dryer, fridges and cupboards, but wishing I was outside. 

I also did some praying. It was very quiet there, yo? Seemed like a great time and place to chat with the Almighty. 

I had a few things on my mind. 

So while I worked, I talked. 

(Silent talking.)

(Because my mouth still hurts.)

He heard me.

I left the lake at 3;30 and took my sweet time getting to the freeway.I stopped every few miles to enjoy the view. (And take a pic. Or three.) I was thankful I was by myself because I think this would have driven anyone else mental.)

I stopped in at church. Sang some good songs. Heard a message that's gonna stick with me for awhile. Prayed some more. Then drove over to Aldergrove to pick up Maureen.

Borrowed my mom's car as I drove through Surrey. (Mine didn't start when I tried to leave the lake earlier. I had to open the hood, bang a few engine parts with a rock, and slam the lid shut. Then it started. Like magic. But the last time I took Maureen into Vancouver we had to deal with a flat tire. And I wasn't prepared to put her through the engine-banging-truck-starting magic-trick routine on some obscure side street in East Van after dark. )

And then we drove to Pandora's Box, to attend a first-ever-for-them live concert by a new band in a private studio.

Such a happy event.
What a fun band.
We stayed for the first set, then drove to Clint's office in the Olympic Village to give him his glasses (which he forgot in my truck) and then I drove Maureen home (women can visit anywhere. Including in the front seats of cars on freeways back and forth to Vancouver) and then I drove myself home. 

Such a good day.

So. Many. Good. Things.

November (traditionally the hardest month for me because the view from here is All Winter) got off to a fine start. 

:)

Three things I'm thankful for:

1.  Advil (It's now Sunday afternoon and my gumline is pounding. SO thankful for pain meds.)

2. Quiet moments.

3. Loud music.

Peace, friends.

xo