There are probably worse ways (far, far worse ) to spend the 200th blogpost on this blog and the first post of the month of September than linking up at Mrs Monologues‘ for a little blog-love. Today is the day of her monthly Blog-Star link-up, and for some reason last time I tried this, I missed the bit about how we’re supposed to introduce ourselves to New Readers when we do that, so today I’m going to get it right. The Readership, stick around, even if you’ve been here since 199 posts ago. You might find out stuff even you didn’t know.
Welcome, New Readers! I’m Jenn, known affectionately by my friends and probably condescendingly by my detractors (of whom there are at least two) as Jennwith2ns. A settled-down and newly-wed world-traveler, I mostly write about misadventures, theological/philosophical musings, and intercultural interactions. At any given time, my day jobs typically involve churches, children or coffee. Sometimes all three. I try to keep the coffee and the children from meeting, however. Some people probably think I should keep the churches and children from meeting, too, but, granting the need for background checks on all staff, I disagree with them.
I have a published book (Trees in the Pavement–see sidebar), a personal blog (you’re at it) and am trying to discern the best publishing method/venue for a second: Favored One, a historical novel and psychological experiment regarding Miryam, the mother of Yeshua. (Translation: Mary and Jesus.) Favored One is difficult to classify but probably best fits the “historical novel” and “women’s fiction” genres. Sometimes I like to call it “fantasy,” too, on account of the fact that not everyone finds the story it contains historical, and it does incorporate certain documented paranormal elements. Recently, I realised that it might also be called “spiritual fiction,” but I kind of liked it when I couldn’t figure out how to describe it.
I live in a tiny house in New England on a not-quite-as-tiny pond with my husband, two dogs, a cat, innumerable fish and sometimes my step-daughter Alicia. My Paul and I have been married six months as of yesterday, so . . . yay, us! We celebrated it (without realising it) by collapsing on our pontoon with a couple of beers in the aftermath of an actually very fun and positive but totally exhausting Youth Group conference at my church’s Camp in a town I like to call Boondocks.
Because you’re at a blog called “That’s a Jenn Story,” you might (even having read the “What’s a Jenn Story?” page) be wondering, What’s a Jenn Story? Here’s a real-life, breaking Jenn Story for you. (I say breaking for reasons that will become clear soon enough.) Ready?
Last night, after decompressing on the pontoon, where I stubbed my toe hard with the corner of one of the pontoon gate-things, so that it (my toe, not the gate-thing) bled profusely for a few minutes and I wished it had somehow been able to happen at Camp where there was a Nurse around, we went inside to watch British television recordings. You would think this would be a harmless enough exercise–much less harmful than riding on pontoons with pointy metallic gate-things. We watched one episode of our current obsession, back-seasons of Spooks, and then took a “rustle around” break before watching the next one. In the rustling, my Paul took two peaches out of the fridge for our consumption.
Usually, I eat peaches with a knife. By which I mean I keep a knife in hand and slice wedges out of the peach around the pit. But Paul wasn’t eating his with a knife, and it didn’t seem to be dripping unduly, so I decided I was not going to walk the six inches back to the kitchen to get a knife, and would just sink my teeth directly into the thing. The peach itself was just fine, but the teeth-sinking part went a little overboard. My tooth hit the pit and a little chip of something went flying all the way across the living room (okay, our living room isn’t that big, but still) and landed on the table beneath the TV. I was startled, for a split second thinking the pit had chipped. And then I had the sinking feeling that it wasn’t the pit.
Let me explain a little something to you about my teeth. They’re pretty yellow, but they’re also pretty strong. I only had a cavity once, and that was four years ago and also maybe debatable. But back when I was seven and was playing “kitty and doggy” with my younger brother on the terrazzo floor of our home in Honduras, my pant-legs slipped my knees out from under me and my face smacked the floor and I broke my right front permanent tooth. An artificial bit was molded onto the original root right away, though not particularly well, and when I was a teenager living in New England, my dentist recommended I get it redone, so I did.
That second tooth reworking has held up just fine until the last year or two, when it’s started to look like it was going to crack or flake or something at any minute. The dentist looked at it again and sort of sanded it down to smooth it, but I wasn’t too surprised, last night, that it chipped. And fortunately, since it isn’t even real, it didn’t hurt, either. It did feel uncomfortable like crazy, though; I spent about five minutes holding my mouth as if I were in great pain and kicking my feet against the side of the couch and running my tongue back and forth over the broken part and moaning. It felt like someone was scraping fingernails on a chalkboard inside my mouth. Since then, it’s proved to make eating a bit of a challenge, and, while I’ve always had trouble keeping globs of food out of the cracks between my teeth, I feel like I could probably fit an entire dinner in the gap at this point.
All of this and I no longer have a dentist, because my my old dentist’s practice doesn’t take my new just-got-married dental insurance. So this morning I had to take a stab int the dark and make an appointment with one (a tough thing to do since my old dentist has been my dentist since I was eight years old). I’ll be going in for a cleaning tomorrow and for the forming of a plan to fix the tooth-stalactite hanging in my mouth. It can’t happen soon enough. I’ll keep you posted.