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Oh the blessings of dental insurance. My heart sank when she ordered four x-rays but in the end it was less than half of what I'd feared. Of course I have to have a crown replaced next month which will be several hundred dollars more, but sufficient unto the day etc etc.
Ordering cabs the day before ensures that they come, but for some reason ensures they come early. Last year was fifteen minutes; this year was half an hour. Which, in spite of slow traffic due to construction and roadwork (Davenport for condo construction, Bay for roadwork) got me there an hour before my appointment. This in turn led to sugary overindulgence at Tim Horton's because I brought my toothbrush and floss with me in case of exactly this eventuality. But I transitted home, walking over to University and locating the TTC entrance in the MARS building even though it was as well-hidden as ever. Had to take the University leg up to Dupont because of elevator outages at critical stations, and then walked from Spadina home to get more steps in. Pleasant dry afternoon, the only contretemps being a screaming guy with some kind of beef against the machine rental place, whose bundle buggy blocked the sidewalk. When I went to walk around it he started screaming at me in whatever language it was-- not one I could identify-- spittle flying in my face. I hope he has nothing catching.
Reading through The Way Spring Arrives, came across a story which references the Chongzhen Emperor and, partly from me thinking it was about the Chongzhen Emperor, off I trotted to wikipedia to find out who and when and how: which was, in short, last emperor of Ming and ended badly, as did Ming. But the protagonist reaches the age of 87 which the Chongzhen Emperor very much did not, so I realized I should have been looking him up instead. Zhang Dai, which meant nothing to me, but faint bells rang when I got to 'essayist' and 'Dream Memories.' Maybe I read them years ago? No, I read Jonathan Spence's recounting of them, and shall read it again because there doesn't seem to be an English translation that's easily come-attable.
Ordering cabs the day before ensures that they come, but for some reason ensures they come early. Last year was fifteen minutes; this year was half an hour. Which, in spite of slow traffic due to construction and roadwork (Davenport for condo construction, Bay for roadwork) got me there an hour before my appointment. This in turn led to sugary overindulgence at Tim Horton's because I brought my toothbrush and floss with me in case of exactly this eventuality. But I transitted home, walking over to University and locating the TTC entrance in the MARS building even though it was as well-hidden as ever. Had to take the University leg up to Dupont because of elevator outages at critical stations, and then walked from Spadina home to get more steps in. Pleasant dry afternoon, the only contretemps being a screaming guy with some kind of beef against the machine rental place, whose bundle buggy blocked the sidewalk. When I went to walk around it he started screaming at me in whatever language it was-- not one I could identify-- spittle flying in my face. I hope he has nothing catching.
Reading through The Way Spring Arrives, came across a story which references the Chongzhen Emperor and, partly from me thinking it was about the Chongzhen Emperor, off I trotted to wikipedia to find out who and when and how: which was, in short, last emperor of Ming and ended badly, as did Ming. But the protagonist reaches the age of 87 which the Chongzhen Emperor very much did not, so I realized I should have been looking him up instead. Zhang Dai, which meant nothing to me, but faint bells rang when I got to 'essayist' and 'Dream Memories.' Maybe I read them years ago? No, I read Jonathan Spence's recounting of them, and shall read it again because there doesn't seem to be an English translation that's easily come-attable.