Oh dear, it's a bigger problem than it first looked!

That was the phrase used by my dentist yesterday that left a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Dentist are not my favourite people, not that I am alone in that feeling. It stems from some fairly bad experience as a child visiting the school dental clinic.

As an adult I shied away from going for a number of years and would only go when the pain from toothache was greater than the fear of going to get it treated. I had friends go with me as I would be in such a state after treatment and my dental notes had a big warning note across the top about how scared I was of getting into the dentist's chair.

Several years ago I changed to a dentist recommended by a good friend and he did a lot to ease my fear, but it was still an ordeal for me. Then I had a session of hypnotherapy for something completely different but 2 days after the session I was due at the dentist, and was amazed how much calmer I was about it all. Now, I was always sceptical about hypnosis but having exhausted all kinds of other treatments I decided to give it a go.

I made sure I chose carefully and in a safe environment and decided to book a session at a local Health Spa as one of my treatments. I'll cover the experience of hypnosis in a seperate post, and simply say here that since then I have been able to go to the dentist without too much difficulty.

So, hearing my dentist come out with the phrase above was not good.

She had checked where I had I broken my tooth and told me there was a small filiing next to it so she would take that out and re-do as one. Only trouble was, the rest of the tooth was attached to that filling and when she took it out another chunk of tooth came with it - apparently, my tooth had been cracked right across.

So, half an hour and a very thick lip later, I was on my way back to the car.

Maybe I'll stay clear of the ice-creams for a while.

Christmas Cards in November.

Every year I am determined to be organised for Christmas, and generally every year I am except for one thing - writing my Christmas cards.

It's not that I send mountains of them, normally I have about 20 to post and the rest can be hand delivered.

I always buy them weeks before Christmas but never seem to sit down to write them until the last minute. I think a big part of it is that they need to be hand written and the arthritis in my hands makes this an uncomfortable task, but it's not as if it has to be done all at once. Whatever the reason, it's always done at the last minute.

But this year is different. We go away this weekend for 2 weeks. By the time we get back it will already be December and in no time Christmas will be on us. This year I need to set my card writing deadline to be before we go away.

So, I have already bought my boxes of cards and tonight, while watching the new series of 'I'm a Celebrity....' (yes, I know it's sad but I can't help it - I have to watch it!) I will get my cards written and ready to send. Then all I have to do when I get back from holiday is post them.

That's the plan!

Ice Cream can be tough.

I know I shouldn't eat shop bought ice-cream when we have our own ice cream maker, but every now and then I fancy a cone with nuts and stuff on.

Well, maybe now I'm cured.

Last night while eating an ice-cream cone I managed to break a tooth.

Don't ask me how. Maybe it was down to a very firm piece of nut but a large chunk of tooth came away and I am now left with a large hole in one of my upper back teeth 4 days before going on holiday.

Hopefully I will be able to get an appointment at the dentist in the next couple of days.

The good thing about it, it appears to be part of a tooth that I've had the nerve removed from so there is no pain at all - as yet.

I hope that continues to be the case until I can get it seen to.

Lest We Forget!

Each year I and many, many more people across the UK buy a poppy ready for the 11th November at 11am. This year was no different, and at 11am on 11.11.11 our factory fell silent for 2 minutes in respect for those men and women who have given the ultimate sacrifice over a variety of wars for almost a century.

Whatever your views on the rights and wrong of the battles fought, those that lost their lives deserve to be remembered.

It got me thinking about the history of the poppy. I've always known it was symbolic of the fields in Flanders in Northern France where so many soldiers died, but how did it get to be the symbol of rememberance?

Intigued, I turned to my trusty laptop and started Googling. I came across a website and, to my surprise, read that it was an American lady that wore the first poppy as a symbol of rememberance, I had always thought the British Legion was responsible for the introduction of the poppy, but they simply followed the lead in 1921, 3 years after Moina Michael wore the first poppy in New York.

I remember the poppy-appeal lost some momentum as many of the war veterans from the 2 world wars grew ever older and died, the memories of the horrors of war dying with them. The validity of continuing the annual appeal was questioned, then the modern day wars began to be considered and the numbers of injured service men and women returning home from the Falklands and the Middle East conflicts began to revive the general public's passion for Poppy Day.

And so tomorrow, I and many, many more will remember!

http://www.greatwar.co.uk/article/remembrance-poppy.htm