remembering a king and an earl . . .

1976
"The Treasures of Tutankhamun" exhibition opens in Washington, D.C., to a record-breaking crowd of five million, before moving to Chicago, New Orleans, Los Angeles, Seattle, and New York.
http://www.neh.gov/whoweare/timeline.html
National Endowment for the Humanities

It was January, one of those Virginia wintry days when the trees from the Parker Mountain farmhouse to Washington’s Smithsonian were treacherous:wondrous ice-clad marvels, the stuff of which fairy-tale illustrations are made. For me, that day was to be a fairy-tale dream come true.

My fascination with mythology paralleled my fascination with outer space in my adolescent and teen years. The names of those other-world gods and of those other-world planets and moon and stars and months and days that bore their names . . . I knew them all. I discovered the pyramids of Egypt—and the tomb of its boy-pharaoh—at about the time that I discovered academic writing. My first ever research “paper” was about King Tut. And now, on that coldest day of a new year, I would place myself in the presence of Tutankhamen’s earthly treasures, those which believers in other gods had once set aside for their boy-king's journey into the afterlife.

How strange then that—among the throughtheyears ghostly memories of my baby boy in his stroller as we waited in the long-lines cold, of ice skaters twirling on a frozen outdoor rink, of either the remnants or the preparation for someone’s inauguration, of Tutankhamen’s awe-inspiring treasures—the one memory from that day that is yet crystal clear is that of a cup of tea!

I think it was in the cafeteria of the National Gallery of Art, though I have no memory of art that day other than the contents of that cup of tea. I could not tell you of bergamot other than its magic . . . that day, and so, so, so  many wintry (and not so wintry) days since.

Earl Grey tea and King Tutankhamen’s treasures . . . what a day full of simple pleasures that was . . . at a time in my life when simple pleasures meant the world . . .

Almost time to brew a second mug of tea. I was “out”—not of tea (I have become quite the collector over the years) but of Earl Grey—until this afternoon . . . This afternoon, I also placed an Amazon.com order for White Chocolate Kisses, Cherry Vanilla, Vanilla Caramel, and something with eggnog in its name? Yes, tea. Six-pack boxes of tea bags—some for Christmas bags and stockings but, yes, many for me.

But none, much as I enjoy each of them and will enjoy those yet to be discovered, will ever displace the memory of that magical moment, that first sip, Earl Grey . . .

all I want for Christmas is . . .

After another both harrowing and funny hour in the dentist's chair, I'm one step further along the path to normalcy.

Let's see . . .

Imagine someone installing an Erector set contraption in your mouth--and one of those tiny one-of-a-kind pieces slips out of her gloved grasp. I figured it was in the chair under me because I'd felt it graze my shoulder. She thought it was lurking somewhere inside my clothing. We were both wrong! This medical marvel that was soon to become a permanent part of my mouth had landed inside the dentist's shoe!

Sometime later the porcelain crown did an almost repeat, bouncing across the room.

The verdict--after multiple screwing and rescrewing and installing and reinstalling of the pieces--was that the mold for the tooth had twisted slightly somewhere between here and the lab and that I would need yet another 2-3-weeks-to-construct permanent crown. Which, of course, meant another 5 minutes with plastic goop congealing on my upper teeth . . .

The good news is that, after a considerable amount of scraping, the composite that was gluing my fake replacement tooth to its neighboring healthy tooth is gone. I feel like someone's removed a parasite from my mouth!

The other good news is that the crown that wasn't exactly right (too much space so debris would have collected between my teeth on a regular basis) is now attached, with temporary cement, to the permanent abutment which is attached to the permanent implant which is attached, hopefully for life, to my jawbone. I can floss and brush normally. I can bite. I can chew (just not sticky stuff yet) on both sides of my mouth. I can eat bagels for breakfast!!!!!!!!

So now, like the "All I Want for Christmas" song, I'm shooting for permanently-in-place-by-Christmas . . . ?!

Oh, and I can hang on to the $800 balance (of the $3600 tab) for another 2-3 weeks . . .