Confessions of a Grandma

 I thought I was having an ocular migraine on Tuesday but when it didn't go away in a short time, I became more concerned. Last year I had an allergic reaction to prescription eye drops. I found an eye doctor here in Florida who took care of me. I called him Wednesday morning and he saw me right away that morning, diagnosed a detached retina and sent me on to an appointment with a retinal specialist. Not how I would prefer to spend my day, but not being able to see is no fun either! The retinal surgeon was absolutely lovely. She was so kind and so thorough in explaining options and what each would entail. I have surgery scheduled for this coming Monday. That's the easy part. It will be followed by a week face down for 22 hours a day for a whole week. That's the hard part. Well, as a friend pointed out, I have time to stock up on chocolate. I will look into audible books. That not for sissies thing -- all too true! In the meantime, I will enjoy the flashes of light and washe

 My neighborhood has a gate at the back exit/entrance. It is meant for the use of residents and require a bar code on your vehicle. I have a full view of the gate when I sit outside to read. Every single day a FedEx, Amazon, or UPS delivery truck goes up to the gate, sits there for a bit, and then  -- beep, beep, beep -- has to back up to go around to the main entrance where there is no gate. Every single day. Shouldn't the word be out by now? Yesterday a large truck, looked like a moving van, pulled up to the gate. Of course the gate did not open. The driver laid on the horn. I mean long and hard. And when that didn't open the gate, he tried again . . . and again.  He got out and waved at the bar code reader and rattled the locked gate, but guess what, he couldn't get it to open. I got a second email from the waste management company (aka garbage collection) asking me to fill out a survey. I ignored the first one but the second one had more of a pleading tone. How likely a

 I went to JoAnn's a while ago to buy some material. There was a woman who was ahead of me in line with a shopping cart filled with bolts and bolts of material. She kindly let me go ahead of her. She was going to buy a yard of each of those bolts to make scrub caps. Apparently she not only donates these to a local hospital, she takes custom orders -- color preference, favorite animal, child friendly, etc.  Some people are so sweet and giving. I made myself a cotton dress with my purchase. It light and loose and comfy. But the idea of the scrub caps stayed on my mind. Not that I am gong to go into production, but my hair has gotten so long now I thought I really needed something to keep it out of the way while I cook or clean.  I found this tutorial on YouTube . Quick, Easy. Fits really well. And it's reversible so two for one!  I definitely will make some for medical field friends and relatives in the future. I later made a trip to the lovely little local quilt shop here in Ven

 Kay's Musings  are always a treat, but her post today gave me a topic just when I needed one. It was about mosquitoes or other little flying biters as yet unidentified. I remembered a bit of doggerel floating in my brain for somewhere: Wouldn't Noah have been wise if he had swatted those two flies? Can anyone really say they wouldn't wish the same for mosquitoes? The mosquitoes in Vermont can be quite large and there are areas where are clouds of swarming, biting dive bombers that are nothing short of torture. I recall wet summers when they were a plague, making camping a total nightmare. My most recent encounter with one of those swarms happened about three or four years ago. When in Vermont, I attend meditation practice led my residents of a monastic academy  They travel to Burlington on Sunday evenings and give dharma talks, guided meditations, and chanting at the Friends' Meeting House .  This is a beautiful spot atop the hill overlooking Lake Champlain, an histori

They do always ask this! Think about this: For the conspiracy theorists: Ever have trouble making small talk? I do, but here's a good tip: Some things are just inevitable with age: I thought this was just plain funny:

 I had my second Pfizer vaccine on March 21.  The next day I didn't even have a sore arm.  I half wondered if that needle was empty but still it felt good to have that done.  Nothing in my life changed. I went to the store but wore my mask as usual. My social activities continued via Zoom. But then I woke up very early one morning with a not good feeling. That not good feeling grew into nausea and vomiting, chills, a slight fever, and the general feeling that I had been run over by a Mack truck. I finally fell asleep -- woke up knowing it was sunset by the way the light comes into the bedroom but honestly couldn't tell if was still Saturday or if I had slept right through until Sunday's sunset. Those were the symptoms listed for possible side effects to the vaccine but they came ten days after it was administered. So I am confused -- delayed reaction or something else entirely? The fatigue is lingering three days in. I have zero tolerance for feeling sick. It makes me angry

 I am crap at judging space and distance, any kind of measurement. I have a couple nice sets of nesting pyrex bowls with covers for leftovers. I am constantly choosing the wrong size -- overflowing a bowl that is too small or giving up refrigerator real estate with a bowl way too large. I have had a quilt planned for months now. I have the material but it sits there waiting for me to finally get over my anxiety over doing the cutting. Measure twice and cut once? How about measure ten times and cut at least three times? I once watched my brother putting down carpet for our mom. He cut to go around a doorframe without taking out his measure and it fit perfectly. How are we even related? Which one of us is the milkman's kid, Mom? Obviously, parking my car is a huge scary burden for me. I could not get my little Ford C-Max straight in parking space. I don't attempt parallel parking or backing into a space. Dane would get out of the car and laugh hysterically at the wonky angle of t