|Archerwill kidlets cross the road|
Emil and I had a pretty good trip today; it's not quite as far as I thought, to Tisdale (home of Corner Gas's Brent Butt; the town has erected a billboard too); we left Wadena by 9 and were there in time for my appointment at 10:30. The mercury has come up considerably so there was frost coming out of the pavement and a few spots were worrisome, but I dawdled along, not in any hurry. Nice drive.
The end results are that the optometrist thinks what is happening to my eyes is normal at my age and after having a couple rounds of that swollen-eyes thing I've had in the past (depending on which doctor you talk to, it was either from stress or from an allergy; I think it was from not washing the salty tears from my skin often enough when there was a lot of weeping), and that it may not get much worse. If it does, and my eyelids fall low enough to come in front of my pupils, the government will pay for corrective surgery. If not, and I want to go that route, it is considered cosmetic surgery and the cost has to come out of my own pocket. I'm not concerned out of vanity, as I've resigned myself to all these weird changes going on in my appearance. They've got to come and there's no point bewailing them. If I'm lucky, I'll get old and wrinkly, with jowls, and that's all there is to it. As long as I'm healthy and fit, who cares if my round blue eyes turn into beady holes with pudgy flaps drooping over them? Heh. It is to laugh. But I'll tell you, the weight on my upper eyelashes makes me aware that something is going on, as if I'm tired or my eyes are swollen.
As for the dilemma of Emil's glasses, the verdict is that he sees only marginally better with them than without them, so unless he develops headaches or various possible side effects of eye strain, he doesn't need to wear them. Aren't you glad, Gord, that your insurance bought them? Because they're going into a drawer.
On the road home there was water on the pavement. Oh, and we saw a skunk out walking. As I tell people this, they say that skunks hibernate, so the sighting is a sign of spring. Or that skunks semi-hibernate, which means they sometimes come out in winter and then go back to sleep. So I still daren't predict.
We pulled into the town of Rose Valley to see if we could wangle a visit with Emil's favourite schoolteacher, who retired at the end of last month. I parked in front of this little store to make the call.
No luck: no answer. We drove around the streets because Emil likes to do that, and he got quite excited when he spotted her car, but another phone call got no answer either so I didn't go to the door. Some other time ....
|on Rose Valley's main street|
I have no new news about Dallas's condition, but my cousin Karla posted this picture of her makeshift bed in his room, on her FB page this morning:
And Dad called; he is back home in Kelowna. Apparently their months in the States weren't all that pleasant weatherwise — cold, icy, windy, snowy. Just like home!