Teeth

When the mind is idle, not engaged in anything in particular, it wanders where it will and so I was suddenly aware that I was thinking about teeth this morning. I don't know why – it's not as if I have toothache or an impending dental check. Bethan came home for the weekend and she has beautiful teeth – the kind of dentition I refer to as 'American'. In fact, all my offspring – and their offspring, too – have credit-worthy teeth, as do most of their peers.
Anyway, I fell to reflecting and soon recalled the episode of 'Friends' in which Ross (David Schwimmer) whitens his teeth. There's nothing wrong with attempting to improve one's image so long as one keeps a sense of balance – Ross clearly overdid the enhancement! The video clip I was going to include has been censored or 'disenabled' - who knows why?
A few years ago, Barry and I went to a point-to-point on Salisbury Plain (which incorporates the largest military training area in the United Kingdom). It was a business affair, a 'jolly' to entertain some of the visiting dignitaries of the company. Naturally, as it was an American company, some of the visitors were American. The local people and the army participants involved in the point-to-point were Britons. The majority of the men, though not Barry, were dressed in tweed suits, some in plus fours, and all in shades of green and brown. Tweed is a rough woollen fabric and is prized as suitable clothing for outdoor pursuits like shooting and hunting because it is hard-wearing and moisture-resistant. However, we were not outdoors but were there to socialise and watch the horses and riders so the robust clothing seemed a little de trop. The women were clothed less formulaically. As with all gatherings of this nature there was a great deal of noise – one might describe it, not totally inaccurately, as braying – and much guffawing. Most of the Brits were entirely relaxed, strapping, healthy, well-built people, standing in a lovat sea, chortling gleefully and showing their strong yellow teeth, quite resembling those of the animals they had come to watch. Into this scrum stepped a dainty, whip-thin woman. She was clearly well beyond her usual comfort zone but was bravely entering the noisy throng, accompanying her husband and smiling rather nervously. She was extremely slender and tanned, stylishly dressed and beautifully groomed in a manner familiar to devotees of the Oscar presentations. She was polished and honed and ironed to the ends of her immaculate nails, a delicate hot-house flower in a garden of vigorous vegetables, but what was truly fascinating about her were her teeth. They were unnaturally, glaringly white, sunbeams glancing off them and dazzling all around her. (Okay, that last bit is an exaggeration!) They were obviously well-maintained, expensive teeth and no doubt in her natural environment they would not have been noticeable since everyone would have had mouths full of similarly blinding gnashers but among the hearty Brits they were quite remarkable. I doubt if she ever attended another point-to-point but have to admire her for making the effort to attend. No doubt she and her husband attended a reception at Buckingham Palace and that would have suited her far better, although the Royal teeth are similarly strong and yellow – and large! It must be something in the genes.

Winston’s mid-August blog

Winston here . . . p'rrrrr, p'rrrrr . . .

We were all up early today – it's like that sometimes, don'tcha know. It's been quite busy in a quiet sort of way what with Mr Human having swine flu and then a problem with his teeth yesterday. Turns out it was a dead nerve – is that what the humans mean when they say, 'He's got a nerve'? No? Oh well – he went to the dentist twice yesterday and now he's got some tablets to take – hope he don't get them mixed up with Frodo's anti-falling pills! That would be funny . . . No?

We had a laugh the other day. Monty acts so cool and laid-back and he was on the foot-stool sound asleep when he stretched and fell off. Mr and Mrs H had to pretend they weren't laughing coz us cats don't like looking silly. I laughed but it sounded like a sneeze so Monty's feelings weren't hurt. He wasn't so kind to me today – I was resting on top of some clean washing on a box and the whole lot fell down with me underneath it. (I don't know why the humans don't PUT IT AWAY.) I couldn't get out and Monty didn't help one little bit. Mrs H picked the box up and then Monty started a fight with me (they call it a rumble in Berkshire don't cha know) That wasn't very nice when I was feeling a bit fragile. Then we all had breakfast. Me and Monty had chicken wings and all the dogs had chunked beef heart. Me and Monty don't like heart much. It's not surprising really – have you ever seen a domestic cat bring down a cow? I didn't think so – our big cousins in the wild do but they'd prob'ly eat us too if they had a chance. So we have food that's kind of like the things we might kill for ourselves though Mrs H hasn't served up mice and rats and birds yet – well, only chicken. It's called' Pray model' – does that mean we have to say grace? Oh – Monty (clever claws) has just told me it's 'PREY' like what we hunt and chase.
Well, he might be very clever an' all but he hardly ever goes on the laptop and he don't blog like me.Mr Mr H took some photos of me blogging this morning. Mrs H had trouble editing them to leave out the untidy bits – I don't think she did a very good job. (I don't know why the humans don't PUT THINGS AWAY.) Ooh, Mrs H didn't like me saying that. She's muttering something now about Mr H and says she'll have to blog about it. She'll have to wait till I've finished though.

Gillian's coming later – goody – lots of cuddles and treats from the children. I s'pose that means that Tia and Foxy will be going home soon – pity, that – it's nice to have them around.That's all for today.
TTFN