LJR Enterprises

I have a habit of getting nasty tooth pains on Friday evenings. Even if I had insurance, I couldn’t get into a dentist’s office until the weekend was over.
One of my memorable pain experiences happened when I lived in Crown Point, Indiana. I had ordered a large, dead-animal with extra cheese pizza from Pizza Hut — Pan I believe. After finishing several slices, I sent a spice or seed thing through my molar. I went to the carpet. I remember experiencing concussions with more joy.
I could hardly lift my head. For some reason, I called my boss. I can’t explain why — even now. He tried to get his dentist buddy to make a Saturday appointment for me but no luck. Probably didn’t matter; I couldn’t drive.
There was the time I went to the dentist for some work before leaving on an extended business trip for LOGS. For whatever reason, I had to drive from BWI to Virginia Beach, Virginia. I couldn’t take any pain killers. By the time I arrived, I was feverish and pale as Casper. Later that night, staying in a seedy motel near the office, I had a visitor. The guy was trying to sell me drugs. Perhaps the night clerk saw my condition and figured I needed a fix.
Here I am now with a tooth pain that has knocked me down. And, I just got over the flu. And, we have added a third dog to the house. I can’t sleep; dogs bark; red-headed boy stomps instead of walking. The inflammation around the crown, which I suspect was the work I had done before the Virginia Beach trip, is maroon.
I keep hearing Lawrence Oliver in my head: “Is it safe?” Then, I see Dustin Hoffman, wearing only sweats and a t-shirt running away, carrying his bottle of clove-something-or-other. He rubs the oil where his molar once was. It’s only temporary relief. Me, I’ve got topical pain killer, ibuprofen and Beam going. I get about an hour of dull relief.

“Carl T. Griffith, who gave a sourdough starter to anyone who asked, or who sent him a self-addressed stamped envelope, died early in the year 2000 at the age of 80. He is known for his generosity and the high quality and vitality of his sourdough starts, which came from a sourdough culture carefully nurtured and preserved in his family for over 150 years.”

150 years!! That is an amazing sour dough record. I have never been able to keep one very long, but I’m inspired now. You can get one of your own by sending a SASE to the address listed on this web page. I would just give you the address, but if you read the web page you will understand why I didn’t. Carl’s friends are carrying on his tradition of giving a start to anyone and everyone who asks or sends a SASE. This sour dough start was carried over the Oregon Trail. I can’t wait to get mine and make some bread with a little history.

Scott e-mailed me this link via Boing Boing.

I realized when I was out doing afternoon chores that our poor, gimpy rooster has gotten a good case of frostbite on his comb. There’s really nothing to do for him. It will turn black and the damaged parts will slough off and he’ll have a funny comb.

I had forgotten that his prominent comb makes him susceptible… not that there was any way to avoid this with the weather we’ve been having.

this blue eyed beauty.

She’s gorgeous. If your spouse is more open to adding a dog to your household than mine, you can find “Spago” here.

ETA: What about as an early birthday present? Anyone? Anyone?

Another GIANT, double yolker and a diminutive blue egg.

I think someone just started laying eggs this week.