Several months ago, after my annual eye exam, I was told by my optometrist he was referring me to a glaucoma specialist!! 😨
I have never had any indication of an issue, no high pressures or eye pain, so I was confused. I didn’t quite understand the issue, but accepted his recommendation.
I put it off for several months because of the distractions of life, and finally saw the doctor Tuesday. According to Dr. Kay I am at risk of an acute glaucoma attack. 😱I have what is called narrow angles in my eyes which can occlude the drainage of fluid and this would raise my pressures to a point of sudden loss of sight.
I was horrified and distressed.
With writing, blogging, quilting/sewing, and reading – losing any of my vision would devastate me. After watching a video explaining my condition and the treatment suggested I was a bit easier. It still scares, the idea of a laser making a tiny opening in my iris to drain excess fluid.
So, next week this will happen. One eye will be done on Thursday, the other on Friday. I pray for no issues, and will share the update you beautiful followers.
She is eight months old and has come into her own as a guard dog. She still is a little chicken shit as far as really protecting, she hides behind me. She has her big bad German Shepherd bark on and will go at it if someone pulls up to the house or comes to the gate. If they come into the yard then she runs up on the porch or around the house, still barking.
What she’s started pulling is barking and waiting for me to come find out what she is barking at. I will be working or doing laundry and I will hear her bark. This isn’t the full on warning bark that she does but a sharp loud couple of barks. I walk into the room and find her sitting there grinning at me like “Haha you came when I called!”
Ok, dilemma here. How do I react? I am the alpha human when Chuck isn’t here.
I definitely know the aggressive sounding bark, that one is easy to pick up on and it’s accompanied by hair standing up and that defensive posture. I gotta say it is very impressive.
With this other bark, it’s as if she is showing me that she is doing her job and waiting for the “Atta girl.”
We are still working on the jumping up on people bad behavior. She just isn’t getting it because everything is play with her and if she did that to an older person Millie is big enough to knock someone down.
Can you say “lawsuit?”
She is a very pretty dog, loving and loyal, but I will enjoy her even more when she is out of this puppy stage.
Coffee-check, cell phone-check, window open, laptop on.
Open blog, open story for final edit, open new story, start writing.
This is my standard process and the way I get started. Moving between all the projects is comfortable and stimulating for my brain. I feel good about what I’m doing. I am predictable, but don’t tell anyone! I want to be perceived as this mysterious artistic human others are compelled to try to understand but can’t get past the wall of creativity.
Millie will come and lay down beside my feet while I work. She will tell me if someone is there while I lose myself in thought or get wrapped up in letting the words flow. When Chuck is here he will come and stand at the door to watch me or he will come over and give me a kiss then leave me to my words.
I think he is proud of what I am doing.
I have three reference sheets of descriptive words taped on a computer monitor I no longer use. It’s amazing how helpful those words are to my creative mind. Where I sit while working I am next to a nice sized window. As often as possible I have it open to engage with the sounds of dogs, birds and the leaves of the trees moving in a breeze. I have four plants in the room so I can breathe.
Tinkerbell is all over the place. I love fairies and pixies. A former boss used to call me Pixie.
The wine is for afternoon and evening writing. Gotta have wine, ha ha.
Hippies never age, we mellow. All that peace and love wore us out like the line from a movie says, “how much sex, drugs, fun can you handle?” I remember the sixties and most of the seventies.
I was that skinny girl with long brown hair in the “maxi” skirt swaying to the music. I would escape my family, go to Himmel park, and sit until I was joined by a few cool people with strong bud and we would talk, listen to someone play guitar and make connections. This was my own private world. I’ve never shared it until this moment, written as it were in precious stone.
I burned candles and incense, read High Times and Rolling Stone. I had black lights and plants everywhere. I remember seeing the movie “The Sand Pipers” and thinking I wanted to live there, on a cliff in a cool two story beach house surrounded by art and music.
Funny, I would still like that.
Because my life was rather transient recently my house had a low maintenance feel. Now that it seems I will be here for a couple more years, at least until I can move to a colder clime things are taking on some of the old energy, including me. I have starting wearing the long skirts again, my hair is long as before, but now the plants, candles and incense are coming back.
I love fabric and textures. Smelling old books or plants whose leaves are bumpy or fuzzy. Words that bathe you in feeling whether read or sung. Sensory impact.
A few of those hippie memories are not pleasant. I was taken advantage of for being rather naïve and trusting causing a few scars but for the most part it is treasured in my mind. I was young, open and free, then life intruded and expected conformity and compromise which I gave. Now the circle is almost joined. Open and free are in my line of sight. Instead of being a hippie I have decided I will be a pixie.