“Cataracts” Follow-up
In researching natural remedies, I learned that the homeopathic remedy, Causticum, is effective in dissolving cataracts. A much better option than allowing someone to put a knife near my eye. After making my purchase, however, I saw the following uses noted on the side of the remedy: Bed-wetting and bladder incontinence. A connection between cataracts and Depends? Oh, yes. And yet another confirmation of my oldness.
Decluttering
Every progress report my two grown children ever brought home from school, kindergarten through twelfth grade. Newspaper articles listing students who made the honor roll. Forty-year-old resumes. Texts from every CPE course I’ve taken for the past fifteen years. Old financial records. Lots and lots of financial records. Computer diskettes containing God only knows what. I haven’t had a computer equipped to look at them in years. Every piece of artwork my children ever did. My dad’s old financial records. He has been dead since 2008. Stacks of old mail that belonged to that same dad. Really ugly paintings from an art class I took six years ago. Many small stuffed Santas, elves and reindeer given to my children when they were little and unused...
Ride-along
The name for this story did not come from the current movie blockbuster. It’s simply the name of an activity that I participate in from time-to-time. I do ride-alongs with the police department. Why? you may ask. There are a number of reasons. First, it shows our officers that the public supports them and has an interest in their jobs. Second, it allows me to get to know the officers personally which, I hope, will result in faster response time should I ever dial 9-1-1. And third, it’s just plain fun. Cops have a wealth of equipment at their disposal, much of it fastened to their belts or crammed around the seats of their cars: weapons, flashlights, radios, radar, cameras, a computer. Fascinating stuff to a boring old accountant like me. On my...
Bed
We just bought a king-sized bed. Finally. George and I debated buying one for years, but it was only after I wrote the following in my journal that my decision was made. November, 2013 I slept on the wrong side of the bed. Again. I’ve been doing this for close to thirty years now. Every night, I think I’ll talk with George about it in the morning, but when morning comes, I forget. In fact, the only way this story even came into existence was because I got up and wrote it in the middle of the night. I don’t know why we decided I would sleep on George’s left side and he would sleep to my right. I’ve never been able to sleep while lying on my left side; it upsets my stomach. ...
Prince
Prince was nine months old when I adopted him. I was trying to fill the gaping hole left when my son moved out-of-state for college and our twelve-year-old Cairn terrier died in the same week. My daughter began volunteering at the local animal shelter in an attempt to heal her own broken heart and that is where she met Prince. This supposed lab-border collie shelter dog quickly grew into a much larger breed—most likely, a lab-Great Pyrenees mix, all muscle. His initial quiet, friendly temperament changed within a few months and he became the most fierce defender of territory in the neighborhood. The occasional meter reader and UPS driver who ventured into our yard didn’t help, nor did the neighborhood kids who daily tested Prince’s invisible fence...
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