Fields of Wheat

Inspirational song: Those Were the Days (Mary Hopkins)

Eating used to be such a simple procedure. If food was available and I wanted it, I ate it. The only ingredients I used to worry about were if dad ordered mushrooms on our pizza, or if mom tried to convince me to eat beets. I can barely remember what it was like, living so carefree. My friends and family now get to eat easily, and when I watch or hear about it, I become some combination of jealous and confused. I miss wheat.

I was playing a puzzle game on my iPad, and the picture I was solving was of a savory pie. The top crust was glossy and golden brown, sprinkled with sesame seeds. I swear I could feel it in my mouth, flaky at first, giving way to chewy and gluey as it went along. Gluten-free pie crust never gets that sticky stretchiness. It is maddening to think I will never experience that again. Some flour substitutes get close, like tapioca starch, but they don't quite make it.

I wonder sometimes if I would want a medication or a procedure that could make it possible to eat wheat again. It would take a lot of trust to take that first bite if I did go on some sort of miracle drug (that does not yet exist). I have a little fear that if I were able to eat it again, I would have no self control at first, and I'd just eat myself sick on all the breads, crusts, donuts, and whatever else I've missed for most of the last decade. It would be easy to overdo. But the stressed word there is "easy." I miss easy.

Competitors

Inspirational song: Eye of the Tiger (Survivor)

Oddly enough, we all seem to be okay with how today's football games went. Sure, we were all decked out in catsup and mustard colors, woohooing when the Chiefs did good things, and getting quiet and tense when they didn't. But both of the teams the Chiefs faced in the last week were absolutely impressive. We could have accepted a loss from either of them with dignity. Today we had to do that. The Bengals played well, and we suspect they managed to really get inside Mahomes' head. He started making mistakes as the game went on. Once it was over, even our die-hard Chiefs fan neighbor, the one who pulled us all in to his fandom, said he was ready to back the Bengals in the Superbowl. 

I had to leave before the half of the second game. I think I had a bad food reaction, and needed to change into pajamas and watch the rest of the game from bed. I felt like I was being stabbed in the appendix, but I knew it wasn't anything serious. Just gluten. It made it a little difficult to focus on the game, but I still watched it all the way through. I didn't have a dog in that fight. I have always liked Matt Stafford, now the Rams' QB, and I wish him well. I was very impressed a week or so ago when I saw a clip of the 49ers' Deebo Samuel get interviewed by a kid whose stage name is Young Dylan. The kid asked great questions, and the player treated him with respect and acted just like he was being interviewed by an adult. I appreciated the whole exchange, and it was charming enough that I would have been just as happy if they had won today (they didn't).

It is really weird to have the Bengals playing for the title. That hasn't happened in a whole lot of years. It made me start thinking. The Chinese Year of the Tiger starts on Tuesday, right? That's going to be everywhere during the big game, isn't it? If it were me, I would certainly tie in the connection in my marketing. It is impossible that I am the first person to think of it. When it shows up everywhere in the coming week, just remember I was the first one to say it to you.

 

No Crowds

Inspirational song: Don't Answer Me (Alan Parsons Project)

Most of the time, I'm okay with a reduced social schedule, in a chronic illness and covid world. I don't miss crowds. I'm better off avoiding loud venues. But every once in a while, I kind of think it would be fun to go to a concert or a basketball game again. Maybe someday see a show at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts. I know I'm not really ready to be as tightly packed as the DCPA or a standing room only rock concert, but I do think fondly of times I enjoyed those situations. I could start slowly to reintroduce such things. I could see whether I can handle a mostly-empty movie theater again. I did that once a month or so ago.

I did some safe shopping with a buddy today. It went mostly well, until I started fighting with the store's app to download a digital coupon, and wasted like half an hour and still couldn't make it work. It gave my friend down time to keep wandering through the store and load up her cart with more and more stuff. I hope I didn't cost her too much money while I struggled to save two whole dollars. She and I don't spend as much time together as we would like. If I were to try again to go to one of those big social events, it would most likely be with her (especially if that event is a basketball game).

The urge to be in public will pass. It's mostly gone already, just from me writing about it. I'll stay home with my floofy girls and watch concerts and sports on TV. This is fine.

Siesta

Inspirational song: It's Hard to Be Humble (Mac Davis)

False modesty aside, I've been pretty sure I had the magic touch when it comes to getting that toddler to mellow out and go to sleep. Every nap time we've spent together has been a rapid descent into lethargy and sweet dreams. The key has always been to go absolutely quiet around her. I lie down on the bed next to her, and get as heavy and boring as a sack of wet concrete. She wiggles a little, but she knows she has to stay roughly in place. She eventually gets bored, and she starts rubbing her eyes and lies down next to me. I've taken her from cranky to sweet slumber in less than five minutes. 

Until today. She fought sleep harder than she has since infancy, since her gastric reflux days. She wasn't crying, but she had no interest in staying in one place. She played with her big blue kitty stuffie, moved around on the bed, slid off the bed as many times as she could get away with it, and begged me to turn on the ceiling fan, to entertain her. I did agree about the fan, not because I thought it would keep her awake, but because I knew the white noise would block out traffic sounds, and the cool air would help her get sleepy. It took her just over an hour to zonk out. That probably sounds reasonable to her parents, who have to fight this battle more often than I do, but for a grandma who thought she had the magic touch, it's humbling.

You know what? Even if it was a little tough today, it's still the best entertainment I can think of right now, spending time with the cutest kid in Colorado.

Declared

Inspirational song: Stay Alive (Hamilton)

Most of the continuing education classes I've taken were on either positive or at least productive topics. I sat through a webinar today that increased my stress level just to remember why it became advisable to create it. Today's topic was what happens with declared disasters, particularly the Marshall fire and the accompanying straight line winds, from an insurance and mortgage lending perspective. It was good information to have. My previous disaster experience, after the 2013 floods that wrecked our rental condos in Boulder, was a little different than what I learned today, as back then the insurance responsibilities fell to the HOA. It's also worth mentioning that I've traditionally left insurance policy maintenance to Mr S-P. After hearing about rebuilding costs versus standard reimbursement rates, I feel like maybe I need to educate myself better about our own policy. 

I had to stay home from an invitation for drinks with my Rotary friends. I had such a headache all day that plain old Tylenol couldn't beat, that I had to take the strong stuff. No way I was going to drive after that, not even with the roads cleared of this morning's snow. Instead my night was just me and my iPad, playing games and watching videos (everything from a Vietnamese guy watching in horror as Rachel Ray made a horrible bastardization of pho to a long-form history program on the battle of Monmouth). Have I just hit the phase where I will just be boring forever? 

In Play

Inspirational song: Rock Lobster (B-52s)

After a full hour sitting in the dark in the living room, staring at a small glowing screen, I'm no closer to having the mental energy to write than I was when the Mr remarked how late it was, turned off the lights around me, and went to bed. I'm finding myself burned out more and more, and I feel safe admitting it, considering everyone else is too. (You should read that word dragged out and accented like I heard it in my head as I wrote: EH-VRY-one.) We finally restarted the Pathfinder game that has been on hold for two months, and between needing to be social, panic-cleaning before everyone arrived, and trying to recall where we left off before the holidays, I got nothing left in the tank. Brain machine broke.

We had a great game night, even if it was exhausting to do the brain work. The whole party was present, which was nice. Once we had a little refresher talk, we made progress from the place where we had been stuck. We had a big revelation right at the end, explaining where two story lines diverged. Plus, I discovered I wasn't as far behind on keeping my character updated as I thought I was. Welcome bonus, that was.

The kid was on point. By playing here instead of next door, she was in her comfortable space, and she ran around and did her own thing, mostly ignoring grownups playing games. At one point she had a stylus, and was drawing on mommy's tablet. I can't say exactly what it was, but she had this posture that seemed more like a teenager leaning over a desk than a little kid. Watching her grow is so fun.

Not As Advertised

Inspirational song: Mulder and Scully (Catatonia)

Yesterday's efforts at auto maintenance had unintended consequences. It made me so tired, I toddled off to bed without taking my nighttime meds. Those are the ones with the treatment that keeps fibromyalgia vaguely under control. I figured out I missed them late this afternoon, and now I'm feeling ragged. I even had to cut short an evening visit with the cutest kid in Colorado (tm), when suddenly every place in me that blood touches started hurting all at once. And what did I say about how I'd be disappointed if my friend who I always drive to Rotary didn't notice how nice the car looked? I didn't end up taking my own car, so all that hard work will have to wait until I can show it off. 

I woke to the sound of snow shoveling. I knew the weather was going to change, but honestly, I assumed we would barely get a trace, as usual. It snowed way harder than I expected. I used Mr S-P's car, with snow tires. By the time we left the meeting, it had warmed up enough the roads were completely clear and the tires didn't matter so much. 

Even though the snow was slushy, the kids took Val on her first sledding run. I'm guessing she didn't take to it like a natural. When we got a burst of photos, the caption read, "an attempt was made." There's more snow coming in a couple days. She can try again, maybe this time with warmer mittens.

The other day I included a picture with me wearing one set of the new glasses. I wore the others today, so I'm following up with a photo, as promised. 

Ready for Trade

Inspirational song: Steam (Peter Gabriel)

It has been almost a full year since I started telling myself I was buying a fancy McCullough steam cleaner to make my car perfect, just like in those detailing videos I watch all the time. It looks so easy when those young men (who are probably healthy and strong) spend ten hours detailing a car, condensed to a thirty minute video. It isn't so easy in real life, detailing a car not in a climate controlled garage, with all the tools and chemicals spread out on counters, pieces of the car removed and set on work tables for easy access, but rather on an icy driveway, hoping that you remembered to bring out everything you needed, trying to work in the blinding glare of the setting sun, hoping to finish before it got really cold outside. I put in a solid two hours, before the water level in the steam cleaner got low, and my energy even lower. I can't remember the last time I spent two whole hours doing anything, much less twisting and reaching in every part of my tiny car, using first steam, then leather cleaner, then UV protectant. I tell you, if my buddy doesn't ooh and aah when I pick her up for Rotary tomorrow, my spirit will be crushed.

I'm still hoping all of this will be worth it, that Mr S-P will agree that getting a larger vehicle able to hold two baby seats and full-size adults at the same time will be the best use of our profit from finally selling the house in New Mexico. Used cars are fetching ridiculously good prices these days, and I've kept this one in the best shape I could, given my limitations. I've kept it clean--not pristine, but not like the stinky disasters in those videos I watch. I have an unlimited use membership at the drive through car wash, and I use it often (sometimes just for a mood lifter, when the car isn't even that dirty, or to cool it off when it's really hot in the summer). I'm not exactly out there using a clay bar on it, or polishing it with a power drill pad, but still, I'm trying to do right by it. It's nine years old, and I just rolled over 80 thousand miles on the way home from Costco on Saturday. Surely as a trade in, I have done all a person could do to retain value.

I figure I have about three weeks left to really make my case that it is time for a new car. The sale will be final in mid-February. What remains of that mortgage will be paid off, and the remainder will be there, tempting him to do all sorts of naughty things. (Yes, I actually spoke the words, "We are NOT buying a plane!!") I'll have to make sure the grandbaby and a half are in his field of vision a lot that week, so he remembers what the priorities are.

I ought to have taken pictures of the car before I came inside. I was so tired, though. Instead, I got yet more proof that we finally figured out proper placement of the cat bed, so that it actually gets used now. Only took us seven months. (Two pictures, taken a day apart.)

What Did I Just Watch

Inspirational song: Johnny B Goode (Chuck Berry)

We gave it a solid three days for our neighbors to isolate upon their return from a trip. Plenty of time, right? It was so important for us to invite ourselves over this evening. The most incredible football game happened tonight, and there is no one I would rather have shared the experience with than my favorite Chiefs fan.

It was a wild weekend of football overall. I had only seen a little of yesterday's San Francisco vs Green Bay game before heading next door this afternoon, but I heard about enough to be entertained just in the retelling. Maybe my glee was in learning who lost more than by who won, but such is football. Tonight Kansas City was facing the Buffalo Bills, who played a nearly perfect game the week prior. We knew from the opening drive that this would be a tough match. None of us expected something like 25 points scored in the last few minutes of the game. The lead changed back and forth, making the whole country tense up in unison. The game-tying drive took thirteen seconds. To quote some random person on my Twitter feed, I can't make it from the couch to the fridge in thirteen seconds.

It was unanimously agreed, among all four of us present in my neighbors' living room, that had the Bills won that game, we were all going to cheer for them to go all the way and win the Superbowl. They were so good, you just couldn't be mad at them. Obviously, we were jumping up and down in our red and yellow official NFL fan gear when the Chiefs pulled it out in OT, but we would have had respect for the Bills to the end. Now, tell me about these Bengals our team faces next week. Any good?

Brunch With Baby

Inspirational song: Friend Like Me (Aladdin)

We couldn't go another minute. It had been too long since we had quality grandparent time. I couldn't stop myself from volunteering to take the baby for a few hours if I tried. I didn't try. I picked her up just before noon, and we came here for brunch. We ate eggs, played games, and sort of watched the live-action remake of Aladdin. That is, I watched about half of it, and she acted like a goofball between me and the screen. I was hoping she would get quiet and take a nap while the movie was on. Instead, she kept standing on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed, stiffening up, and tipping forward to flop face-first on the mattress, giggling the whole time. She thought it was the absolute best game. Eventually I admitted defeat. No nap. So we went and got a bath. That kid was stinky. We fixed that.

I got the notification that my glasses were in at Costco. We needed to get a few things while we were heading that way, so while I sat for an hour waiting for my turn at the optical center (I drew ticket 88, and they were on 83 when I got there--ugh), grandpa and Grumpus did the shopping. They came back to check on me twice before I finally got to pick up my glasses. Good thing they had each other to stay entertained. If either of them had been sitting alone with me the whole time, they would have exploded with boredom.

I'll get selfies of the glasses tomorrow, once I do my makeup and find good lighting. 

Grim

Inspirational song: A Few Words for the Dead (Marillion)

The universe is going through another one of her big collection phases, isn't she? From the last week of last year, through today, we keep seeing well-known names exiting this life. Today's was interesting. While we were all wondering how Meat Loaf died (the initial report said "with his wife at his side," so I guessed wrongly that it must not have been covid), the comedian Louis Anderson's name appeared on the list. They certainly are not the only ones to go this week. I saw two numbers cited for Wednesday, early Worldometer (Worldometric? It's not one I know well) reports of 2700 dead of covid, with a later Johns Hopkins calculation of 3800. That is a one day total, two full years into this thing, after two-thirds of us have two or three vaccine shots. It is just beyond comprehension that it is still mowing down so many people, yet we are all just bored of it at this point. We adjusted to the horror, threw it into our already-full backpacks of collective trauma we wear slung over our shoulders every day, and kept going.

Maybe I need to find a new pastime other than making myself reflect on something to write about every night. I'm either whining about my own poor health, or I'm looking around and realizing everyone else is feeling as crappy as I am, at some level. How about I take up painting again... or better, embroidery. Stabbing a piece of fabric hundreds of times to work out stress sounds lovely. There has to be something else to think about that our collective doom.

Here is a photo of a dog hanging out on frozen mud, who refused to go inside to his warm bed. It's a metaphor.

Hang In There, Buddy

Inspirational song: The Beat Goes On (Sonny and Cher)

Just like most of the country, nay, most of the world, our little circle is feeling worn out. We postponed our Wednesday game night for weather and health reasons. When we tried to regroup for tonight, while the roads are clear, most of the gang declined. We had folks isolating after travel, and nearly everyone citing some level of fatigue as their reason for not wanting to play tonight. I can't hold it against them. I too am pretty burned out emotionally, socially, and physically. It takes a lot of effort to get anything accomplished, especially if it involves self-directed chores in this house. I can keep appointments, which are mostly for doctors and massages anymore, but give me a to-do list of laundry, dishes, or any other task, and I will just ignore the whole thing and sit around watching YouTube videos instead. I would beat myself up over it, but honestly, life is just so dreary for everyone these days. I am not so different than all of you. I promise to pat you on the back and say, "hang in there, buddy," if you will do it for me. Heck, I'll do it even if you don't return the favor, if you really need a friendly gesture and don't have the emotional energy to do it back. This doesn't have to be transactional.

One friend from the game group needed the weekly opportunity to connect, so we were glad to have him come up and play a round of Wingspan. This was the first time I really started getting the strategy of that game. I'd been on teams before, and I think I played poorly on my own once. I started slow this time, but started figuring it out and finished with dignity (in last place, but with my pride intact). 

I hope we can get our regular game going again soon. Either of the campaigns, really. If we have to go back to remote meetings, that's fine. I miss the long games.

After Effects

Inspirational song: Make It Go Away (Sheryl Crow)

There just aren't that many good songs about being sick. I had to Google something and just take a stab in the dark for one that was okay to use. This one, as I understand it, was about Sheryl Crow's cancer treatment. Meh, good enough. Not my problem today, but I didn't have the energy to search for songs about massive digestive upset. The day I find a song about the after effects of possibly eating gluten, I'll be in business.

Good thing I had nowhere important to be today. Everything was iced over by the time I crawled out of bed (at a reasonable hour, in my own defense.) It snowed off and on during the day, and all I heard was how slick it was. I had no interest in walking to the car, much less driving anywhere. For that matter, my whole day was focused between the recliner and the bathroom, so I really didn't go anywhere.

Game night was canceled, partly for the weather and partly because I wasn't the only one feeling less than 100%. I'm fine with this, maybe in a little misery-loves-company sort of way. So I can crawl into bed early, I'm going to zip out with one of yesterday's pictures, of the cutest kid in Colorado eating an apple (which I believe she threw up, so maybe there is a theme here...)

Birb Day

Inspirational song: Let the Eagle Soar (John Ashcroft)

Days like today are why it is beneficial never, ever to miss a Rotary meeting. It was my day to set up the banners and gavel and whatnot, so I arrived plenty early. I wouldn't have missed today either way. But just as I was finishing setup, with the aid of my fellow sergeants-at-arms, the guest speaker arrived with his assistants. Today was the day for the raptor educational outreach program. We had birds of prey in the hall with us today. It was fantastic!

The speaker was the founder of this program, called HawkQuest. He created it back in the 80s, when he discovered there was keen interest for him to bring the birds he has rescued and rehabilitated to show to kids (and Rotary clubs and governors of Colorado, among others). His birds are poor candidates for release back into the wild for one reason or another. The Harris hawk and great horned owl he showed us had poorly-healed wings after accidents. The bald eagle had been rescued as a fledgling, and imprinted on humans as caregivers, and thus did not have parents to teach her to hunt. We got to see all three of these birds, and a few members of the club were allowed to come get photos with the birds. I made sure I got in that group, grinning like a maniac with the owl next to me.

We learned about the matriarchal structure of raptor groups, and were given relatable descriptions of how well they can see and hunt in the wild. He demonstrated the owl's ability to turn her head roughly 270 degrees around, thanks to her species having 14 neck vertebrae instead of 7 like most of us mammals. And then he let the hawk fly over the crowd, which was so much fun to watch. She went low over us, much lower than any of us expected. And just before he wrapped up, the bald eagle demonstrated her powerful excretory functions, and he told us a story of one of his raptors being invited to a signing ceremony in former Colorado Governor Lamm's office, which was carried live on television, and right at the end, she decided it was time to poop. Yay, working with animals!

Put to Rights

Inspirational song: Lay Your Hands on Me (Thompson Twins)

Compared to that last few weeks, I feel like I'm practically floating on air. I finally got in for a massage, only the second one with the therapist I met for the first time last fall. She is fantastic, and quite easy to chat with during sessions. She and I have a lot in common, and we talk like we have known each other for years. I rather like that. I also rather like her massage style. She is different than my regular guy, but no less talented. I splurged on an aromatherapy add-on, which was nice, but somewhat dulled by wearing a mask. I have the leftover lotion, so perhaps I'll wear a bit of it on my hands when I go to bed, to see just how soothing the "soothe" blend actually us.

I allowed this massage to dominate my entire day. I counted the seconds until I was able to go, acting like I could do no other activities until I had my appointment. Likewise, I did very little after it, because, well, you know how chilled out one gets after that, right? It was really a public service that I came straight home after, and didn't try to run errands. Can you imagine how dangerous I could have been driving around town, zoned out with slow reflexes? I did it for you, Colorado. You're welcome.

I asked for baby pictures to round out my evening, but I waited too late to ask. When my daughter saw my message, it was right after the kiddo went to bed. Instead, I got photos of the little old lady cats who don't end up in the blog, almost ever. Introductions are in order. The fluffy concoction is Darwin, called Winny. The frail tortie is Fenêtre, as in the French word for window. Winny stays on the edge of my periphery most of the time, making sure I see her, but interacting with me only when she deems me worthy. Fenêtre takes the opposite tack. If she sees me, she claims me. She is a champion lap kitty. Cuddler emeritus, as it were. Age has its privileges, as well she knows.

Coming Soon

Inspirational song: The Real Me (The Who)

Staying home another day just wasn't an option. I had to get out and do something, anything, as long as it was reasonably safe. I knew I was unlikely to be snuggling up to strangers at Costco, swapping spit or worse, so off I went. I had a new glasses prescription in my purse, and I was not afraid to use it.

I wanted to get frames that matched my current color pallette a little better. I still like my red and orange ones, but they don't play nice with how deeply ginger I wear my hair now. I thought I'd try for purple, green, or blue. I was just sure I hit it out of the park when I saw a set with a translucent jumble of rainbow colors. It was so cheerful and funky. I wanted it bad. I tried on that pair and a few others, and sent selfies to my younger daughter and buddy from Rotary. Daughter said definitely rainbow ones, Rotary friend said definitely to a different frame, this one teal. Then I found The Set--dark green on top and light brown on bottom. Having made it through my existential crisis about my eyes, and accepting that my greenish-brown eyes really are hazel (I even asked the optometrist last week for confirmation), I had to go with the hazel colored glasses. Both of my trusted advisors agreed.

The sales guy at the Costco vision center talked me out of the awesome rainbow ones. I know he was correct that they were really too small, but I still mourn their loss. I got the teal ones as a backup set, instead of the rainbows, but I will long remember how much I wanted them. Maybe someday I will find a different set sized correctly for my face. Until then, I will be happy with the two I chose. I have to wait a week for them, but here are the selfies I sent the ladies. And yes, mom, I am not smiling in them. I was holding my breath because I was pulling down my mask. Hard to smile and not breathe while focusing on taking pictures.

In My Head

Inspirational song: Surface Pressure (Encanto)

Considering the vast universe of songs that could potentially be stuck in my head, the fact that lately my internal soundtrack is almost entirely songs composed by Lin-Manuel Miranda is really not that bad in the grand scheme of things. It just means my usual methods of getting rid of earworms--playing a song and handing it off to someone else--don't work. I end up playing whole albums, and at best I just substitute a different LMM song for the first one. You just know that once the current ones (Encanto, Moana, Hamilton, etc.) start to fade for me, that guy will come out with something new and get me all spun up again.

This is the year I have promised myself I would finally address the constant tinnitus I have been living with for decades. I won a door prize for a free audio gram and ear plugs at our Rotary Christmas lunch, and I was chatting with the doctor who donated that item last week. He explained tinnitus in such a simple and logical way, I'm kicking myself for always assuming it was something I could never help. I thought I had to live with it forever. Of course, now that it is moving up on the priority list, it is bothering me more than ever. I think it has gotten louder by a factor of ten at this point, just because it is on my mind. I can't just block it out and forget about it. Same goes for the doc last week saying wow your eyes are dry. Now it bugs me, just because he pierced the veil I use to block it out. It's easier to live with these things when I don't have to think about them.

I must have been too active today. Once I settled in to the recliner, all the cats and Saoirse have taken turns crawling all over me (or in Saoirse's case, resting her chin on me and giving me big puppy eyes). There was intense competition to be mommy's lap kitty all evening. I hate to disappoint them, but I kind of like how much I got done today. I hope to do the same tomorrow.

Too Much

Inspirational song: Valerie (Steve Winwood)

I should have delegated more tasks. I see that now. I had to clean up after yesterday's baby visit, start on the carpet shampooing, and then make dinner to take over to eat at the kids' house. It was the standing at the stove, making chicken fried steak (both beef and beyond burger) and two kinds of gravy that did me in. My feet ache, my back is indescribably bad, and all I want to do is post one paragraph and go to bed early. It was worth the fatigue to get to have dinner with the cutest kid in Colorado, though.

I See

Inspirational song: The Look of Love (ABC)

Going back to a doctor after taking three-plus years between regular checkups is a little embarrassing. I'm supposed to be getting frequent eye exams with an ophthalmologist because of how dangerous my lupus meds are (yet another reason it was a bad thing that it was carelessly sampled by the general population during the early Covid days). I last saw my eye doctor the autumn before I discovered the first breast cancer, so that would be late 2018. I went in today, feeling chagrined that I'd let it go so long, but honestly, a whole lot has happened since then. I was a little distracted. He was gentle in his scolding, saying we practically have to start over from scratch in the monitoring. But nonetheless, he noticed my long absence. 

I fully expected to have my eyes dilated today, but since I have to go back for a more extended field of vision test at a later date, we pushed off dilation until then. (I had to babysit today, so waiting made my afternoon a bit more possible.) He said he saw a small cataract, but since I wasn't dilated, he is waiting for more info to really have a conversation about it. Wow. Suddenly I feel positively geriatric. I do have an updated eyeglasses prescription. Maybe shopping for glasses online, and getting something young and modern looking will me feel like one of the cool kids again.

The baby was here nearly six hours. I'm glad I only had to deal with the lingering sensitivity from the yellow stuff they put in my eyes, and not the extra hassle of pupils that wouldn't cooperate. Val has a lot of energy, and she doesn't cut grandma any slack. We played with toys, drew with crayons, snacked, and climbed on everything. She is big enough to get on the piano bench by herself, but she needed to stand on the blanket she threw on the floor next to it to get up there with stuff in her hands. She's just a little too small to get into the recliner on her own power.

Early in her visit, I turned the bedroom TV on to play Encanto. After her nap, I put the same soundtrack on Spotify on the iPad. She studied it closely, wondering when the movie was going to start. I had to point at the Spotify icon to explain to her that it was just the songs, not the show. I think she was disappointed. That, or she was just filing the information away so she could pull it up at home, since she already knows how to access other albums she likes.