Leftovers from the Hodge Podge Lodge

For about five years, I used the cheapest possible toothpaste with my hyperexpensive toothbrush, for reasons I haven't quite fathomed. Last year the dentist informed me that there were some issues with various brands, including the one I was using; I switched over to a store-brand knockoff of Sensodyne, which is ostensibly kinder to the teeth. And while I don't believe there's any connection — the most likely explanation is the deterioration of an existing filling from somewhere back in the last century — last checkup yielded up one cavity, and I switched again, this time to a Crestalike. (Which reminds me of a piece Lileks once did about the rumors that Procter and Gamble were in thrall to Satan, in which he pointed out that their signature dental product would have to be the Anti-Crest.)

I have no exterior mailbox per se at Surlywood; instead, the mail is dropped through a slot in the garage door and is caught in a basket hanging on the inside of the door. Usually. Entirely too often, when the door is opened, something that hasn't dropped fully into the basket finds itself at exactly the right angle to fall upon the garage floor, where there's a reasonable chance it will be run over as I drive up with my 215-width tires.

My usual pasta sauce is Prego Traditional, into which I'm likely to toss a few things of my own, notably basil.

(Hmmm. She was right: these are not stirring blog topics. Except maybe the sauce, which has to be stirred regularly.)

Posted at 11:08 AM to General Disinterest