Although we blew a large hole in our day yesterday, the news from the ophthalmologist was good. My eyes are healthy. No Glaucoma, however, I am at the top of the “eye-pressure” range, 10-20 being the normal range and I’m at 19; No cancer in the eye; no macular degeneration; no torn retina anymore, no scar tissue and no changes to my eye-glass prescription (no extra cost). I also persuaded David to get an eye appointment, although apparently he already had one I had made..duh.
After we left the hospital we stopped by the Heidelberg for lunch where we picked up sandwiches and several desserts. It is a coffee-house, bakery, deli and small store and I always go a little nuts there. While I combed the counters for goodies, David’s bank card in hand, he sat waiting in a chair in the small eating area.
Carrying a big heavy bag, I joined David who couldn’t stand up. I asked a very nice man who had volunteered to help me, only 70 years old, thus a ‘kid’ in David’s book, if he could help David. The man lifted David and held him until he was steady, then held the door for us while we went out. David told me he was embarrassed. I said, why, you made his day. You know people love to help others and you did him a kindness allowing him to help you.
The fence out front is rotting and several of the cross timbers have fallen into the garden, so I called Kathy and asked for the name and number of the fellow I met at her house who worked on her fence. Turns out his name is Harry Potter, and he says he will call me when he’s in the neighborhood and stop by to look at our fence. David told me he could fix the fence, and I told him NO. Fixing the fence requires using our post hole digger he fondly calls ‘Ivan the Terrible.’
The mention of post hold diggers always reminds David of the time he and his buddies rented a gas-powered post hole digger they hoped would save them work. As they were “having a few beers” while the post hole digger did its work, it got away from them and dug itself into the ground almost to the top of its handles. The boys spent the remainder of their time digging the post hole digger out of the ground. The moral of this story is hire a professional.