Crowns, according to my dentist, are supposed to last a minimum of 10 years. It was therefore with some regret that my new left front crown, “installed” less than two weeks ago, began to come loose on the train journey home from that appointment. I’m heading into Leeds again shortly to get a lick more cement on it. Hopefully it will last at least a few hours rather than minutes this time.
After that particular job is done, I am due to meet Wee John and his new lady Karen – we like Karen – at Leeds train station to begin a weekend of varied entertainments. A visit to the pub is first on the agenda.
Vanessa and I booked tickets some time ago for a little outdoor event in Manchester tomorrow night and believed we were well covered on the babysitting front. Sadly, we weren’t and John and Karen have very kindly agreed to come up from Cardiff (yes, the Welsh one, more than 200 miles away) to help us out.
Meanwhile, later tonight, John’s fellow Godparent Vicky is equally kindly popping in with her friend to look after Jamie for a couple of hours whilst Vanessa, John, Karen and me nip round the corner for some food.
The ultimate success of this evening depends largely on:
1 John and Karen’s train being on time and
2 Vicky’s friend’s train being on time
So it’s bound to be a disaster.
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