The bee's knees

Now, before anybody thinks of calling the 'Bee Protection League', I swear that this isn't the work of Jack: we found this bee in a place so inaccessible to him that he can be completely exonerated. We thought about trying to resuscitate it, but where do you start with a bee? It could lead to a whole new meaning for 'bee stung lips'! Anyway, the bee was quite, quite dead .... so dead in fact, that it put me in mind of Monty Python's 'dead parrot sketch'. Do bees have fleas? Having checked my lens for specks, I decided that, bearing in mind where it was found, the bee must just be dusty; but hubby, in his role as domestic hygiene supervisor, thinks not: he says that not so much as a speck of dust would dare to lurk anywhere around here (apart from my dressing table), & that, given it wasn't found on my dressing table, it's simply a flea-ridden bee. A dead, flea-ridden bee; with astonishingly beautiful wings. And knobbly knees.

Today's visit to the dentist was a success: he was very impressed at how well all seven wounds have healed, and has given me time off for good behaviour - this means that as of tomorrow I can stop swilling the saline solution & get back to my regular mouthwash. Phew! He's also given me time off from having the bottom teeth dealt with: he feels (as do I) that a month is too soon, & that I need to get thoroughly comfortable with the top set first which could well take me far longer than a month; but, since there are now only 3 teeth to come out (& fairly close together), he could easily do this in one 'hit', so I've to ring & arrange it with him as & when I feel ready; this means not having to trail back to the hospital again. Double phew! Thinking back to the unpromising first appointment I had with him, this dentist is turning into a real gem: considering the plate had to be made more or less by guesswork (no gum to take an impression of, not even any straight teeth), he's done me proud. And, I've discovered one really great thing about having dentures: I didn't like the look of the great tool he got out, but all I had to do was lay back in the chair & hand my teeth over for the drilling & filing to be done; my mouth is now much more comfortable - I even bit into a (non-dunked) crust this evening!

Afterwards we nipped into the chemist shop to buy some glue stuff that the dentist had suggested I try, & whilst there I asked the assistant whether they had any denture brushes; hubby said: "What d'you want one of those for? Sounds like a gimmick to me"....... well, gimmick or no gimmick, the sales assistant was on my wavelength: she came back with two different brushes, saying: "I'm afraid we've only got a plain white one, or perhaps you'd prefer this" - & produced a purple denture brush. Ha ha, it doesn't take people long to get the measure of me (the purple coat, hat, & sox are a dead giveaway)! Jack had had his dose of Rescue Remedy before we went out, & apart from some barking & whining, he coped fine - we initially thought he'd had a slight bladder accident, but it turned out that he'd knocked into his water bowl!

Things we've learned about Jack:
When he sneezes, he does it so hard that his chin hits the floor. When I was at school I used to get told off for sneezing too loudly; ergo, he must get it from me.

No bees were harmed in the making of this blip.