Well, it ain’t the crown coming loose. It’s the whole blamed tooth. Seems it somehow got fractured under the crown. And that means–trumpet flourish, please–a trip to the oral surgeon on Friday morning. My turn to take a little drive down Tribulation Alley.
I’m not good at stuff like this.
Well, meanwhile, Erlene and Phoebe are back with us, I’ve got a hymn request to see to, a bit of blogging–and then, I think, a cigar. Tomorrow it’s off to the vet’s with Robbie, for her checkup, and nothing bad has been scheduled for Thursday yet…
Sounds like all sorts of fun.
This is a rather mixed bag – some good news, some not so good news and some in the middle category of neither. God is in control and we’ll pray all goes well.
Yes, prayers on your behalf. The Lord has got this. May you find your place of perfect peace, in Jesus’ name.
Indeed, always prayers. May the good Lord ease the pain, comfort the cold robbies (no offense meant to Robbie), and rejoice with our joys. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Thanks, Phoebe… I need to be armored in everybody’s prayers.