Well, I figured a workaround to the inability to post my picture from yesterday. This isn’t the best picture I took, but I know I’ll probably not get a better opportunity to get this shot. I can go back and get the good pictures at another time.
On Monday morning I’m going to have a procedure done on my left eye. Assuming they don’t blind me with the laser I’ll have the same procedure on the right eye a week later. I am looking forward to having it done because it is getting harder to read every day, and driving at night is kind of scary. The problem is caused by scar tissue that developed after the cataract surgery I had last year…at least I think it was last year. The people where I had the cataract surgery and now the laser treatment prefer to call the scar tissue “healing tissue.” It’s like calling a tax a “revenue enhancer,” or a stripper an “exotic dancer.” A rose by any other name. Anyway, I want to get it done because things seem much dimmer to me, and it has been getting worse for the past two or three months.
The procedure sounds simple enough. They just use the laser to burn a hole in the scar, excuse me “healing,” tissue. I’m guessing that they won’t be giving me any good drugs because they told me that I can drive myself home when it is over.
I love to watch the birds eat the seed I put out for them. The finches have been a particular pleasure this year. The squirrels still try to get the seed, but they don’t seem as intent on getting to it. I remember how they used to infuriate me when I was younger and living on Eastland Drive.
One year I decided to have some fun with the squirrels. The bird feeder was hanging from a metal pole in the back yard. The pole was 1/4 inch in diameter, and the squirrels could climb the pole and get into the feeder. One day I greased the pole. Later that day I watched a squirrel run to the pole, leap up to climb, and slide back down. The squirrel tried three times before it gave up. Then it dragged its belly across the grass, trying to get the grease out of its fur. This worked for a day or two, but then the squirrels, or furry tailed rats as Mary calls them, had rubbed all of the grease off the pole and were able to once again climb to the feeder. It was fun while it lasted