Not the Tooth Fairy

A handmade level inherited from my grandad or my friend Lloyd. Can’t recall.

Things around here are rarely level.
The yard slopes.
The old wood floors slant.
The walls lean a bit.
You get used to it.

My mom used to try to pull out our baby teeth with a string tied to a door handle. Lots of yelling. And blood. And crying. Didn’t work. Dad finished the job with needle nose plyers. Not these. His had black handles.

Orange alert immune system flare-up today. Taking it slow, and easy. No choice. Off-kilter all day. Not level. No fairy. But always little things to enjoy

“Acceptance is a small, quiet room.”

Appreciate Riwaka7 for her fine hosting of TT. :)