I finally got the correct contact lens prescription this afternoon, so now I can order a 6-month supply. This concludes a process that began with an eye exam on Jan. 5 and dragged on for another 20 days.
Even though I professed a strong dislike for my glasses, I found myself liking them more and more since they alleviated the need to carry reading glasses around. Now I’m back in contacts with reading glasses for close-in work and it seems kinda cumbersome. I guess that’s the price for living 67 years.
The weekend is upon us and, once again, we find ourselves with no particular plans. No gun shows, no jaunts to Memphis. Might be a good time to clear a space for Maria’s long-arm quilter which lies in pieces in the dining room.
I rather expected to see more photos of Sean and Ruth’s new dog, Honey Pie, by now. I hope she’s working out. A rescue pit bull can acquire some bad habits in its first couple of years that may pose a challenge to its new family.
This morning’s mail delivery included the Wallace Pioneer Trails creamer I bought last Friday on Ebay. It was advertised as a gravy boat, but at 3 1/8” tall, it’s a little small for a gravy boat. I have one just like it in the Westward Ho Rodeo pattern, but I lacked one in the Pioneer Trails pattern, so I jumped on it.
Now I have to do a little china cabinet shuffling to accommodate it.
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