The Wisdom of a Desolate Tooth

Over a week late. I simply forgot I had pics on the wee camera and had used big one. Trauma comes to mind as I think back. I had my wisdom teeth out. Fiona the dentist is a wee bossy boots, but with the most gentle, precise hands I’ve ever had the displeasure of. I am yet to decide if she is delightful or evil.
 
The plan had been to convalesce all weekend but somehow I chose to go to Fort William with Rosemary, Izzy and Glen who were all doing a trail race. The plan was nearly changed again when I started to bleed to death, with my mouth filling up with the raw product of black pudding. I was a bit panicky. My main reason for getting in the car was that I could tell that Rosemary was a bit concerned and didn’t want to leave me alone.
 
The car journey was crap. I sat with the black dog on my lap, not wanting to engage with anyone. At the dinner stop, was it Blair Atholl, I was surprised not to be dragged to the pub to eat. Rather, I was left in the car for a snooze. When we arrived at the youth hostel (strange name for a place full of smelly old people) I was deposited in a dorm full of smelly old people. The gang were in a private room, but I was a last minute addition to the trip and did not secure such luxury. Glen briefly thought about swapping, but he kept it to himself. On entering the dorm, he immediately decided that it would not add much to my suffering and he wanted a good night’s sleep! I didn’t care, and slept the whole night, recovering from the major surgery earlier in the day.
 
On wakening, I noticed that a twat had dried his smelly socks on the radiator and the smell of a rancid dead sheep had enveloped the whole room! “Bastard” I thought He had single handedly made Rosemary’s Dad’s welsh hill cottage seem as fragrant as a pot pourried ladies boutique!
 
The day went slowly. It was blowing a gale, pishing down and the banks of Loch Ness were as hospitable as that bloody man’s sock drawer. I sat and read The Guardian in the car for hours, with Izzy’s cat haired jacket keeping my knees warm.
 

I was pleased to leave Fort William and even more delighted to see Rannoch Moor! After my weekend, this inhospitable wilderness seemed as welcoming as a trip to the Caribbean.