Blog Slacker

Ugh, I'm so embarassed that it's been 3 weeks since my last post. This blogger...someone should flog her. I have two good reasons for my being such a slacker. (Actually, there are lots of reasons, but they aren't very good, such as "needed to lay on the floor and stair at the ceiling for 2 hours.")

#1--I went to the eye doctor a couple of weeks ago. While there, I got a routine glaucoma screening and a surprise. Apparently my optic nerve on the left side is about 4 times the normal size. This fact gets me labeled as a "glaucoma suspect" and wins me another round of testing, which I also flunk.

This has dragged out over a couple of weeks and will probably drag out a couple more, so they can put me through the torturous "field of vision" test (also known as the anxiety attack generator) again, so I can flunk again.

Anyway, the reason this has negatively effected my blog-writing is that the time I would normally spend obsessing over my blog has to be spent obsessing about my huge, bulging optic nerve.

#2--Don't worry...this excuse is not so depressing: We've had the prettiest weather I've ever experienced in North Texas. Ever. I mentioned this to my dental hygienist and she said, "Don't you remember all those beautiful spring days from when you lived here before?" Of course, by then she had her hands in my mouth again, so all I could say was "uh-huh."

What I do remember about my first summer in Texas, back in 1998, was the 50 days in a row where the temperature was over 100 degrees. I remember trying to figure out where to hide when the tornado sirens blared their wizard-of-Oz warning. I remember getting hit in the neck by a golf-ball sized hailstone when the clouds were still 5 miles away.

So, when these San Diego-like days popped up, well, I really turned into a slacker. I even took up kayaking on Grapevine Lake. Some of you may remember a story I wrote last year about a fellow camper who drove me a little bit crazy, trying to get me to join her in some activities, one of which was kayaking.

Well, Joni came back to the campground, on her way from Florida to Colorado. When I saw her big green Monoco motor-home come lumbering into the park, I was filled with kayak dread. But even a stalwart boat-hater like me couldn't say no to the still-as-glass water, herons hunting at its edge, turtles ducking underwater as I passed in my big yellow kayak. Even if I might have glaucoma, especially if I have glaucoma, I had to get out on that water.