Pig and farm report

I drove to the state park this morning and stood ankle deep in the Saratoga Passage until saltwater rose back up into my body the kundalini climb snake energy righting my blood righting my little boat. It was already 89 degrees. When I got home my son was standing in front of the open freezer holding Jupiter up like a cartoon baby lion so she could have a bit of breeze. He came back from the orchard because it was 114 degrees. We ordered lunch from the Mexican restaurant and put it on my credit card and brought it home credit because I am so close to payday and because of the dentist. I’ve written here about my weird shame in facing dentists dental work that soft highway of the throat that holds secrets big and small. My dental issues stem from my childhood abuse. My dental issues stem from my lack of dental insurance from lack of money. My dental issues stem from raw fear due to a few terrifying cheap dental close calls. My dental issues stem from shame at how horrible this current iteration of my mouth is my child mouth my wagging pink tongue its own shameful animal. I told new dentist call me Dr. Matt like a hometown chiropractor that I was glad when we all started wearing masks so I could talk to people and laugh without covering my mouth with my hand. I told my son tonight that I’m looking forward to the time when I can see my smile again. It used to be such a shiny beacon in my wild head. My teeth were bright mirrors. My smile was my high beams and I could disarm a man at 40 paces with its blinding light. I have been to call me Dr. Matt twice so far once for partial X-rays the second time for some gruesome oral surgery. I go back on September 2. I keep remembering if you want to change go through a door. I spent so many years being moved from place to place like a numb horse. It’s time for me now to allow unexpected joy to allow the smallest ecstasy.