2006
and i feel alright
maura @ 2:32 pm
Right now I want to be eating one of the super tasty peaches we got at the farmer’s market last weekend, but I’m waiting for the minty taste in my mouth to subside. Last month I had a cavity filled, my very first one ever. I have to admit that I’m kind of embarrassed about it. I haven’t even told my mom yet (though I suppose writing it here for the whole internets to see may put an end to my head-in-the-sanding it). I’ve been sort of egomaniacal about my non-cavity status over my adult years, and apparently it’s just that sort of hubris that mouth bacteria simply love to punish. My new Russian dentist claims that not flossing is the reason for this tooth decay. Jonathan, of course, has been a floss nerd for years, and finds my fall from dental grace to be quite amusing. Anyway, my dentist now wants me to floss at bedtime (no problem) AND to both brush and floss after lunch. I have SO many problems with that one, it’s hard to even enumerate them, which is why I’m guessing I’ve hit only a 40% success rate in the past month. It’s a pain to interrupt my workflow and go brush + floss. It’s an even bigger pain on the days when I’m in the office, and I’m sick of people giving me strange looks as I floss in the bathrooms (I mean, I only have a cubicle, where the hell else am I supposed to go?). But perhaps the biggest pain of all is where I am right now, waiting for that damn minty taste to go away so it doesn’t pollute the flavor of what I want to eat next. I mean, it took me 36 years and 364 days to get the first cavity, with nearly no flossing at all. Shouldn’t just flossing once a day get me to age 82 or so? By which point I’m sure I will not care at all if I have to have another cavity filled, plus will presumably have the time to floss two, three, even four times a day.
And in other food news, the bounty of the farmer’s market has been particularly yummy this year (or maybe I’m just more appreciative of fresh fruit + veg in my advanced age?). My biggest discovery this year is peas. Yes, peas, full of their green peaness. You may know that I’ve historically really really hated peas. Snap peas were okay, but shelled and cooked peas? No thank you. Mushy, yucky, bland. But a friend had some fresh snow peas at the playground a couple months ago and I grabbed a few, thinking they were snap peas. And before I knew it I was crunching on sweet, fresh little peas. So yummy! So sweet! I could eat them like candy, I swear. In Indiana I picked + shelled a bunch from J’s mom + stepdad’s garden and J even cooked them up all french-like, braised with lettuces, and even those cooked peas were good! Who knew?
So, the moral of the story: fresh food tastes better. I know, I know, a big fat duh. But next summer I am growing peas on our windowsill, come hell or high water.
Coincidentally, I’m reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma right now. It’s good, as I knew it would be, if a little idealistic. More spew on that later, when I’ve finished it.
