Diversion

Some things are just too depressing to write about here. If I were to try to chronicle this week, even with the most upbeat attitude I can muster, it would still sound like nothing but whining. Let's just say that my trip to the dentist and learning that I need a root canal didn't even come close to the low point. Oliver's first birthday was the high point, but we didn't get to eat his cupcakes until after eight when Earl got back from the barn after feeding, bedding and milking because Erik was on the road in the delivery truck, filling in for Larry, who slipped and hit his head on the ice by the outside freezer and has been out for two weeks with a bad concussion.

I think I'm going to need to wait for some bright spots before I do any more blog posts. I don't trust myself in this current state. Earl and I went out to dinner at Pauline's in Shelburne last night with my sister and brother-in-law and even at one of my most-favorite restaurants, with three of my favorite people on the planet, it was all I could do to keep from banging my head on the table and screaming when the talk turned to dentistry and the housing market.

What the world needs now, what my world needs anyway, is a good old-fashioned diversion. If the circus would only come to town, I would buy ringside seats for every show. I would buy the ginzu knife, and the handy-dandy orange juicer. I would sign up for the celebrity cruise that stops in a dozen fun-filled ports of adventure. I would go to Foxwood Casino.

Alas, I can't do any of these things, or buy a new car for the next three years because I'm having a root canal instead.

Anyone know a good joke?