You Have the Power

TEETH.
American Museum of Natural History,
New York City, August 2014

On Wed. March 11th I went to the Dentist Whom I Do Not Trust (DWIDNT?) and acquired my first crown, on a tooth that has not been causing me any pain or trouble.  I kvetched and moaned beforehand to anyone who would listen.  My friends offered concern and solace, patiently telling me that they had had this procedure and it was not painful.  Expensive dental work without pain? Can’t be, I reasoned.

I entered the appointment in a bad mood, because of All The Things, including but not limited to anticipation of pain.   I told the dentist at the start that I was nervous, for which the response was the usual medical-personnel brushoff, “Oh, you’ll do fine.”  

This reminds me of Nov 2016 after the Orange Menace was first elected, when someone at church said to me, “It will be okay.”  It has not been okay.  It has been horrendous.

I said to the Dentist Whom I Do Not Trust, “You’ve done a billion of these, right?”  Yes, pretty much.  He spent about 30 seconds administering the local anesthetic, went away until I was numb, came back and spent about 5 minutes drilling the old filling out.  Then he left the room, never to be seen again by me that day.  The rest of the work that hour was done by Kelly, the Person Whose Title I Don’t Know.  Or maybe her name was not Kelly.  I don’t remember.  (I wish that I would be handed a card at every dentist visit that says, “Your hygienist today was FirstName” because after six months I can never remember the hygienist’s name.)  I was worried about how the dentist was going to be, professionally, but I should have worried about how the Unknown Titled Person would be.  She did a lot of intricate work to make the temporary crown.

They knew I had never before received a crown, and that it was a long time since I had had anything done requiring local anesthetic.  I wanted them to tell me, for each part of the procedure, exactly what they were doing.  They did not.  Informing the patient is too much to ask in 2026.  As best I could, I asked questions, despite my mouth being numb.   But if I didn’t ask, there was very little info forthcoming.  

Wedding crowns from
Pakistan.

I was told what not to eat, and not to floss, that it’s probably a good idea to rinse with warm salt water, the warmer the better.  This info should be handed to the dental patient after the procedure, on a little card which also says, “Your hygienist today was FirstName.” I am now terrified to brush my teeth on that side.  

I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had no pain, even after the anesthetic wore off.  All my friends were telling me the truth, and I am grateful.  I rinsed with salt water, while the Common Household Husband peppered me with questions:  How much salt?  How hot the water?  How often?  I have no idea, because I was not handed a little card with detailed instructions.  I am the grandchild of a train engineer and the daughter of an engineer and a teacher.  I want detailed instructions.  Or, to put it more bluntly, I want to be pampered.

It is a temporary crown, but gives me the authority to say, on March 28th, “You say ‘No Kings’, but I actually have a crown. Bwa ha ha ha !.”  It is very unlikely I will actually say that.  

I offer no final judgment until I receive the permanent crown. The temporary one makes me feel like I have glue on my gums.

*** Two days later ***

On Friday March 13, 2026 we had a huge wind storm, which knocked the power out, just after I finished cooking dinner.  We ate dinner in the light of the shabbat candles.  I had just charged up my kindle earlier in the day.  The Common Household Husband was home and, though his EV was below 50%, it had enough charge to run the fridge.  The outside temperature was above freezing.  No trees fell on the house. You can decide if all of that means Friday the 13th is lucky or unlucky.   The power was off until around 3 PM the next day.

Near our son's apartment

During the night, I skipped around on my kindle, starting three new books and eventually finishing one I had been reading, in the hopes of falling back asleep.  I had been longing to have the concentration to sink my teeth into a long book, and I took this as my opportunity, although it is hard to concentrate with the wind howling.  I bought a 571-page Pulitzer-Prize-winning history book about Cuba. I am enjoying it so far.  I will probably finish it in July.

We made it through the night, waking up on Saturday to an ambient temperature of around 58 degrees in the house.  Brrr!  We got up and made our way to Eat ‘N’ Park, a fine local eating establishment, where we found everyone else also in search of a hot breakfast.  

I completely forgot to rinse with salt water.  But I still remain without any pain or infection.  So far.

We cleaned up branches and sticks from the yard until the bin was full.  We drove over to our son’s apartment – his power had been restored Friday afternoon – charged our devices, chatted, and went for a strenuous walk to view the local damage.  When we returned home in the afternoon, the power had been restored about half an hour prior.  NAPTIME.

So we have electrical power back at our house (not so much for my church, sadly), and I have temporary regal gear, at least for Molar #31.  This afternoon, the wind is really picking up speed again.  Thanks, 2026.

Voting is my superpower, and probably yours too.  I refuse to cede that power: I have a crown. 

Hope to see you all in the streets on March 28th.

No huge branches down in our yard.

The bin is full but we still have
more branches to put in it.
And another windstorm today.

Does she wear a crown or a tiara?

First lines: February 2026 edition

Below are the first lines of the books I finished reading in February.  Once again, it was hard to concentrate on reading – 679 pages total.  

 

 

Book 1

My Dungeon Shook

Letter to My Nephew on the One Hundredth Anniversary of the Emancipation

Dear James,

I have begun this letter five times and torn it up five times.

 

 

Book 2

Count Camembert’s estate, Gougère

“Come back here, young lady!”  

“No!”

  

Book 3

The Clothes of Others

Mma Ramotswe, owner of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency (as featured in a two-page article in the Botswana Daily News, under the headline “A Lady Who Definitely Knows How to Find Things Out”), had strong views on the things she owned.

 

 

Book 4

“The English understand wool.”

My mother sat on a small sofa in our suite at Claridge’s, from which the television had been removed at her request.  She held in her lap a bolt of very beautiful handloomed tweed which she had brought back from the Outer Hebrides.

 

Book 5

In October there were yellow trees.  Then the clocks went back the hour and the long November winds came in and blew, and stripped the trees bare.

Sweeter times.  Early November 2016.

Finished ¼ of, on purpose

Wherever You Are, Stop What You’re Doing

Stop and look at the tangled rootlets of the poison ivy vine climbing the locust tree.

 

Did not finish #1 

Chapter One: Cecily

Bintang, Kuala Lumpur, February 1945

Japanese-occupied Malaya

Teenage boys had begun to disappear.

Did not finish #2

After distributing the eight ice-creams – they were the largest vanilla, chocolate, and raspberry super-bumpers, each in yellow, brown, and almost purple strips, Pop Larkin climbed into the cab of the gentian blue, home-painted thirty-hundredweight truck, laughing happily.

 

The titles and authors revealed:

 

 

Book 1

The Fire Next Time

By James Baldwin

128 pages • 1963

nonfiction classics essays memoir race challenging informative reflective medium-paced

I recommend this book which consists of two essays.  The title is from an African American spiritual. Baldwin’s epigraph: 

“God gave Noah the rainbow sign, 

No more water, the fire next time!”

The “fire next time” likely refers to the final day of judgment. (2 Peter 3: 5-7)  The phrase appears in the final sentence of the second essay.  The thoughts Baldwin expresses are still relevant in 2026.   In 1963, Baldwin said that if-  if-  if- people of good conscience work at it, America might be able to become a place of freedom for all.  The Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act were passed in 1964.  And then the Voting Rights Act was gutted by the Roberts Court (SCOTUS).    Right now it doesn’t look all that likely that our country is headed toward freedom for all.  I feel as if we are actually living through the “fire” phase predicted by the spiritual. 

 

Book 2

The Princess and the Grilled Cheese Sandwich.  (graphic book) by Deya Muniz.

256 pages • paperback • first pub 2023

fiction graphic novel lgbtqia+ romance young adult funny hopeful lighthearted fast-paced

It took me 15 days to finish Baldwin’s short book of essays.  I needed this graphic book to restore my reading pace.

Imagine a kingdom where females cannot inherit, so the heir must hide her identity and appear in public as a man.  Don’t need to think too far, do we?  Now imagine that all the characters are named after cheese.  This is a whimsical queer romance told in bright colors with lots of defiant characters yelling or sobbing, I mean, understandably, given their situations.  I read it in a few hours.  It has a happy ending.  

This is a YA graphic book I found when I looked on Libby for a book titled “Sandwich”, recommended by Bibliomama.  

Il ne faut pas mourir sans avoir
mangé tous les fromages.

Book 3

The House of Unexpected Sisters (No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency #18)

Alexander McCall Smith

226 pages • first pub 2017

fiction mystery lighthearted mysterious slow-paced

Just when I said (last month) that McCall Smith never includes LBTQIA characters, this book introduces one, quite positively portrayed.  And the way the character is written, perhaps this character is included in future books in this series.

 

 

Book 4

The English Understand Wool

By Helen DeWitt

69 pages • 2022

Fiction literary

Contrary to my expectations, this novella does NOT take place in England, nor in Scotland, nor in Ireland.  It’s a clever story, in which none of the characters are particularly likable.  Includes an interesting twist. 

Perhaps Einstein understands wool.
I do not think those skeins are wool.

Nebby detail: In the “first line” above I used quotation marks to make it clear a character was speaking.  In the book, the author uses the French method of a leading em dash (I don't know the proper term for this type of punctuation) to indicate a spoken line.  And that method is entirely appropriate.   

In a French book, a character might say:

– Il ne faut pas mourir sans avoir vu Carcassonne.

In a book in English, the character would say:

“One must not die before having seen Carcassonne.”

I have, in fact, seen Carcassonne, so I’m all set.

Book 5

Small Things Like These 

by Claire Keegan.

112 pages • 2021

fiction historical literary

It was a joy to re-read this book.  I highly recommend it, again.  I am leading the book discussion in March. The writing is excellent and the events of the book are relevant today.

I posted a tiny bit more info about this book in Dec 2023.

Finished ¼ of 

The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year

Margaret Renkl

270 pages • first pub 2023  

nonfiction essays nature

I enjoyed reading the “Winter” portion of this book.  I want to wait until spring to read the next section.  I can’t bear to read about spring during this particular winter.

Did not finish #1 

The Storm We Made

By Vanessa Chan

339 pages •first pub 2024

fiction historical dark

This was for book club # 1, but I simply could not read it.  Too much trauma inflicted on children. We’ve heard enough of that in our own news these days.  I can’t stomach it in a novel.  It has war spies in it – I probably would have liked that part.

Did not finish #2

The Darling Buds of May (the Pop Larkin Chronicles Book 1)

By H.E. Bates

160 pages • first pub 1958

Started out funny, but became silly and rather annoying.  I think this was recommended by a booktuber as a light, amusing read.  

A darling bud of May, from 2014.
This was the last time we grew a tulip in our yard.
Tulips are simply dessert for deer.

As we look forward to the actual darling buds of May in a few months, what is in your reading stack?

LH Feb 2026 - How It Is Ending

I am now dressed and ready to go…. nowhere.  I am relishing this day of not going door knocking, of not going to a political rally, of not calling my elected.

Feb 17th Election Season Beginneth

Last Half February consisted of a sudden dive into feverish political activity.  

Danger, Will Robinson!  Boring description of political process!

Every four years we run for our seats on the county political committee.  This is that year!  We need to get a minimum of 10 signatures and voter info (more is better) of registered voters on our petition, which is a piece of actual paper.   So twentieth century, eh?!  

This is a labor-intensive, plodding activity.  It cannot be done online. The candidate cannot fill it out for the voter.  It must be done correctly, or the signature will be invalid.  It requires either begging voters to come to your place, or going door to door asking voters to sign.  It can only be done Feb 17th - March 10th (in Pennsylvania).  

Let’s start with the fact that most people do not even answer their door any more.  Then add that most voters are unfamiliar with this part of the process, and are suspicious.  I tried one year inviting people to my place, which resulted in one signature.  The voters I already know – IF I catch them at home – are willing to sign my petition and – bonus !! – the petitions for the other people running for office.  Voters I don’t know are barely willing to take the time to sign my petition. 

Me preparing to go (gasp) outside
for door knocking. 
Pro tip - it is impossible to do this
without clipboards.

On Tuesday I girded my loins for door knocking. I knocked on 13 doors and a whopping 7 opened - that’s a very good rate.   After two hours, I had 8 signatures, a sense of gratitude that the neighbors remember me, and an earful of the main issue bothering them: those two cars parked at the crest of the hill. 

If you know someone who is in the lower echelons of your political party, you could pleasantly shock them by seeking them out and volunteering to sign their petition, without forcing them to come to your door.  If it is the year for party elections in your state, that is.

Feb 18th Ash Wednesday

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.  

You are butt dust and to dust you shall return. (Our favorite Lenten joke, ha ha!)

Following my personal rule of singing whenever possible, I joined the hastily assembled choir to sing J.S. Bach’s “Jesu, Priceless Treasure” but I couldn’t sing the high notes.  I faked it, which somehow seems appropriate for 2026.

I was comforted to receive the imposition of ashes from my own pastor.  My father would be rolling in his Presbyterian grave, but I hope that instead he is enjoying heaven by eating murgh methi, basmati rice, and freshly cooked chapattis, and playing bridge with my mother sans arguing.

The pastor who gave the sermon said to listen.  I’m trying.

Feb 19th  Dental news

My dentist of 25 years retired last September.  It didn’t seem right because she is younger than me.  In reaction, I did nothing about it.  In July, I had already made my appointment for this February with the (now retired) dentist.  I kept my appointment on the 19th with the new dentist, who seems older than my previous dentist and is a man.  On my very first visit he informed me that I need major dental work.  Boo hiss.  I do not know if I want a man touching my teeth.  I called another dentist and the first appointment was late April, for mucho $$$, and that was just for the initial exam.  I am afraid to wait that long for this procedure.

HOWEVER.  The dental work is a CROWN.  I want to be able to go to No Kings Day on March 28th and say I HAVE A CROWN.  Bow before me, all ye maggaty ones.

The procedure will happen in early March with the old white man dentist whom I do not trust.  But for some reason I had no problem trusting the young white male dental hygienist who cleaned my teeth.  I can’t figure myself out.  

Feb 20th Door knocking for signatures 

In my precinct, but not my neighborhood.  Knocked on 20 doors, 5 opened.  Oof.  Five signatures, after one hour of walking, on my petition only.  I was told by several people that their spouse was napping.  First rule of politics:  Never wake a napping voter!  Not even for a precious signature. 

Seen while canvassing.
Love me a Little Free Library!

Feb 21 rally.  Above freezing!

I still need this sign.

So sick of all the entitled privileged creeps.

Feb 23 a mother’s worries

Massive snowstorm in Massachusetts, where several of our loved ones live.  And two of my (adult) children not feeling well.  Here in SWPA we also had snow.

My brother, at the end of his street

Ice and snow on a window in
Boston, Mass.

That evening was the vote in Town Council for the resolution banning any agreement with federal frozen water agencies.  I went to the meeting, prepared to speak again, but left after 40 minutes of listening to bigotry openly expressed by residents of my own town.  Late that evening, the resolution passed, 5 to 2.  

Feb 24  

I knocked on 4 doors, zero opened.  It was cold and windy.   My thoughts were infected by the town council meeting. A lot of the neighbors are probably bigots.  We are in full-blown fascism.  I realized I had forgotten my phone - this is a safety issue when one is door knocking alone.  I aborted my attempt.  I went home. 

Feb 25 More door knocking. 

Three more signatures, which is enough for my petition, but it felt like pulling teeth to get them.  It was clear these voters had no interest in signing other candidates’ petitions.  I feel demoralized that voters in my own party are not more enthusiastic to engage in the process.  I give up.

Seen while canvassing:
squirrel statue outside a door
that did not open.

Dachsund and frog statues
outside another voter's door.

Feb 26th Our local Democratic Committee fundraiser

At last, a joyous event!  Good food, good company.  It was my dream to sing one of the resistance choir songs, and we did, although not in the gorgeous harmony the Minneapolis choirs have done.  I won a raffle basket, which included a truckload of hot chocolate packets, chocolate truffles, library swag, a beautiful blanket, and a resistance hat (the Norwegian-style red hat with tassel) for the Common Household Husband.  The same knitter had already honored me by giving me one. 

The CHM and CHH,
in our matching Norwegian red resistance hats!

Feb 27th Rally - Fridays Without Fetterman

We are not amused.
This is the first time in a long time
that I have been willing to put on
a costume at a rally.

Lady Liberty is so f#&*king disappointed in our senior Senator.  He caves to the Miller-Vought regime most of the time.  There were just 20 of us at the rally, and not much traffic driving by at noon downtown, but it was uplifting to be among friends.

January to mid-Feb are supposed to be resting-up times
for the foot soldiers in the political world. 
But not when there is a town resolution to pay attention to.

This month I did 80 hours of political activity:  32 communications to electeds/university officials, 30+ communications to fellow residents on the town resolution, 8 public events, 7 meetings, 10 data activities, 4 door knockings (51 doors knocked).

We cannot fully rest, but we must take breaks.  Now that I have showered, it’s time tonight for … a Purim Party!  Bring on the hamentaschen!  Let’s drink until we can’t tell the difference between the names of Mordechai and Haman!*  Onward to next month!

Please tell me how your February went. I hope there was some relaxation in it! And some chocolate.

*Let’s not.  This is a stupid tradition.  Please don’t do it.  I certainly can’t drink alcohol like that...any more.

If you are not sick of reading, here’s the recap of FH Feb.