I really, really dislike having routine disrupted. It's all right when it happens because you're preparing to welcome guests to stay over a few days with you in a family reunion. But when we have out-of-the-ordinary appointments to keep and they happen to be on days when  you've scheduled other things, it's unpleasant. A factor of old age, more than anything. (A) people are creatures of habit to begin with and there's comfort in habit, (B) the older you get the more reliant you are on routine, and finally (C) if because of both (a) and (b) the interventions in routine are required because of health, all the more resistant we are.

Not that remedial dental work is a matter of serious health disruptions, though it could be, if left to deteriorate. My appointment was for 2:00 in the afternoon, a good enough time of day, a bad day to have it, since it's usually a really busy housecleaning day. Most other days of the week are taken up with other, almost-equally-resistant routines that I hate to relinquish to make up for Monday's lapse. That's life.

Imagine agonizing over such trivial things. Jackie and Jillie knew something different was happening; we were leaving the house. Irving was preparing to drive me the twenty minutes it takes to access our dentist's office. They know if we put their collars on that they're coming with us. To wait in the car in the parking lot behind the stand-alone building with Irving until the dental work is done; expected to be brief, and it was. But they emit these high-pitched desperate whines anyway, until we scoop them up. It's no longer hot and humid, but cool, windy and bright, but a water bottle was in order for them.

Courtesy and sweetness exudes from the dentist's office. We've had the professional services of this young female dentist for several decades now; the office is full of young women technicians, office workers and they're all quite cheerfully wonderful. The individual dental-work cubbies are still divided by heavy plastic curtains, an innovation against COVID; however, not too good for air circulation required with the coronavirus.

It took no time at all to replace the absent filling. And then I found myself, work completed, glued by acute backpain, to the dental chair once it was lifted to a seated position. When the reverse had initially occurred before the dentist began her operation, I had a momentary pain shoot up my back and knew it resulted from a too-acute slant; my head too low for the position of my feet. A half-hour in that back-compromising position had locked my back in tight. I hadn't been aware, or felt it while it was happening, concentrating on what the dentist and dental assistant were doing.

How awkward. How painful. How worrying. How long would I be locked by this incredible pain into this neither-here-nor-there position. They were concerned over my obvious discomfort. I was concerned myself, willing myself to stop the pain, to swivel off the chair, to gather my things, pay the bill, thank them effusively, and leave. It took awhile. Awhile would be about five minutes; it just seemed longer. Less pain, my back stiff, I wondered if I'd be able to sit in the car for the drive home. No problem. Bit by bit the pain ebbed. Lucky me.

Early in the morning we'd had our ravine hike. A bit shorter than usual, on a beautifully cool, windy and sunny day. What could be more perfect! We saw a hairy woodpecker, quite close, but it was in a hurry, spiralling up a poplar trunk and evaded our curiosity. We've found that when we see woodpeckers and they're aware of our presence, they invariably stick to the side of a tree trunk opposite to where we stand.

Later, in the afternoon, we decided it was cool enough to spend a refreshing hour reading out on the back deck. Lots of room for Jackie and Jillie to join us on the deck furniture, and they did, though they're not as comfortable as they are on the sofa and loveseat in the family room. If dogs bark from some backyard in the neighbourhood, they've got to respond. 

Irving pointed out to me that the smaller of our two magnolia trees, planted ages ago in the backyard was undergoing a second, more modest blush of blooms. Something the much larger tree at the front of the house has never done. The flowers are huge, bright pink and beautiful. Today feels like a bit of a holiday; just dumped everything that is usually scheduled to be done, and relaxed for the balance of the day once I had snipped chives, parsley and sweet basil from the kitchen garden to include in the potato salad I prepared for dinner.