A Fresh Perspective

You may recall that my glasses broke during my trip to Nashville during the spring semester. If not, shame on you. Arranging an appointment with an optometrist during the school year, given my course schedule and typical method of reaching campus, would have been problematic. Ergo, I spent the remainder of the term using a homebrew solution straight out of the 1950's; Sandi affixed the sundered frames using an ingenious blend of toothpicks and bandages.

This had a couple of unanticipated side effects. The most obvious was a striking resemblance to one of these awesome dudes. Secondly, our solution to the broken frame problem was less solid than that of, say, soldering the frames back together. As a result, I had to readjust my glasses fairly often -- but only one ear at a time.

A couple of weeks ago, I finally went to see an optometrist, after much prodding from Sandi. I promise that I was not trying to avoid said appointment; rather, I am easily distracted by research, housework, and shiny objects on the pavement. Today was the day I went to collect my new spectacles. I immediately ascended at least two quantum levels of studliness when I first donned the new eyewear. A small tear in the space-time continuum occurred (seriously, I got the old frames during the Clinton administration), but I patched that rip before leaving their office.

Furthermore, Sandi had an appointment of her own today. She was able to use her old frames for new lenses; after all, they actually came from this millennium. Hopefully, these new glasses will help with her work at the bank, which obviously includes a great deal of staring at little font on a computer screen. She was also able to use our vision coverage to look into a pair of prescription sunglasses, thanks to the whole frame recycling thing. To make a short story long, we will both have new glasses soon.

Ashe is still little and adorable, but her claws are like twenty little phonograph needles. She has also decided that the leafy patterning on our comforter was an enemy in need of painful death. Needless to say, she usually strikes the offending fauxliage while one or both of us are under said comforter. We have suffered several little pokes as a result of these sorties, but nothing that could leave us as part of a Ted Nugent song. As a partial solution to the leaf problem, we flipped over the comforter; this has reduced the attacks somewhat.

Enjoy the weekend, all!