Sunday, August 15, 2010


This marketing skill illustrated above is pretty clever. 

Victoria Independent School District used to be able to tell students how to dress for the best educational experience, and it looks like they are giving it a shot again.  I hope that the administration will back up the teachers who deal with the students who will try to "buck" the system.  If the rules are broken and the students are sent to the office, let's hope that the students are held accountable, no matter who they are or what role their parents play in our community.

I graduated decades ago, so I know that I am old; however when I went to VISD schools we were told what to wear.   We complied with the rules or we suffered the consequences at school and home.  Our parents backed the schools in their rules and regulations and we were held accountable on both fronts.  Girls weren't allowed to wear slacks, pants or shorts and guess what, we learned what was taught by the teachers.  We studied and took pride in our academic success, school clubs and school spirit.  On Fridays, we wore red and white and adorned our notebooks with all the spirit ribbons we bought. 

The Victoria Advocate has been stirring the pot with the polls about dress codes and publishing incomplete rules concerning the dress codes.  I don't know what the purpose of the poll was, except to create a whirlwind of controversy. 

Individuals will still maintain their unique personalities, whether they look like the other kids in the school.  For those of us who actually work in the real world, we have been following dress codes all along.  It's just a fact of life:  Rules are written and if not followed, then consequences follow.

Saturday, August 14, 2010


Throughout this week I have endured extremely stressful times.  The factors involved in creating this stress don't amount to much alone, but the whole is much more than its parts.

  • Cataract surgery, early Monday, when everything should have gone as before.
  • Seeing through a "red plastic screen" in afternoon.
  • Add many floating drops of "oil" to the gauzy screen on Tuesday morning.
  • Poking, prodding, bright lights for examination.
  • Doctor adds additional drop twice a day, burning assures me of correct placement.
  • Wednesday morning, sight has gotten worse, second doctor consulted.
  • Concerned mutterings accompany the poking, prodding, extremely bright lights.
  • Immediately sent to downtown Houston for specialist appointment, without eating, drinking.
  • Strange directions, congested traffic and enormous, costly parking garage.
  • Dodging traffic, with the aid of an assisting arm and the aid of only one eye.
  • Dilation, waiting, bright lights, examination, poking, prodding and no answers.
  • By late afternoon, quick bite and the puzzle of finding way home.
  • More drops, more waiting, more questions, more fear, not much sleep.
  • Thursday, nothing to eat or drink, before returning to downtown Houston.
  • Patience is wearing thin, with traveling, traffic and no answers, just more questions.
  • New doctor, new lights, new drops, new tests, new examinations, new questions.
  • After consultation, treatment is determined.
  • Explanation is given and fear is at a peak.
  • Needles are to be inserted in the eye socket, below the eye.
  • During this part of procedure, I came to the edge of passing out from the pain.
  • Since I didn't want to start over, I convinced myself that I could and would stay alert.
  • Withdrawing fluid and inserting antibiotics into the eye was weird, but painless.
  • Multiple drops applied and patched for the journey home.
  • Two hours later, midway home, patch removed for drops and the world was duplicated.
  • Double vision, double the anxiety and double the pain.
  • Pain medicine made the rest of the ride home tolerable.
  • Early Friday morning, return to doctor in different part of Houston.
  • Tension by this time was equal to the frustration with incomplete sight.
  • Drops, bright lights, examination, waiting, more examination, more poke, prodding.
  • A slight increase in vision was the ultimate reward for this painful, frustrating week.
  • Two more prescriptions (total of seven types of drops) and we wait.
  • Monday morning, local doctor and then Friday we return to Houston.
How did I pass this time without too many drugs, you might wonder.  Well, I spent many hours going over how many sayings involve the most precious organ of my body.  I will give you a few that I thought of, just to prime your pump of memories of eye sayings.

  1. Eye of the Tiger.
  2. Lying Eyes.
  3. Eye of the needle.
  4. Beats a poke in the Eye with a sharp stick.
  5. Eye of the beholder.
  6. Eye on the sparrow.
  7. Shut-Eye.
  8. In the blink of an Eye.
  9. Bedroom Eyes.
  10. Betty Davis Eyes.
  11. Got my Eye on you.
  12. Can't believe my Eyes.
  13. Evil Eye.
  14. Eyelets.
  15. Eye piece (microscope).
  16. Eye glasses.
  17. Eye drops.
  18. Eye lashes.
And the list would continue until the waves of sleep pulled me into the land of not caring about diminished vision.  Amazing thing, this old mind is, sometimes.  I know that in the whole world of hurt, my week is nothing, truly, I do understand that.  However, it's been a bad week for me and mine and I hope to SEE an improvement on all fronts soon.

So in closing, let me leave you with this somewhat familiar quote.  I only knew the first two sentences, but the last two made me laugh in a week without many smiles.

“Cross you heart, hope to die. Stick a needle in your eye. Jam a dagger in your thigh. Eat a horse manure pie!”

Thursday, August 12, 2010


My eye troubles and the doctors' visits have me feeling stupid, insecure, scared and a little frustrated.  I've had numerous drops; horribly bright light shone in my eyes; machines poking for pressure; waiting rooms to occupy; many miles to travel; foreign buildings to find;  parking to pay for; and still no answers.  It doesn't help that the parts of my eye that COULD be running amok are foreign sounding to me and the "Hmmm"s that doctors are murmuring and shaking their heads in frustration of not having answers.  We go back to the doctor in downtown Houston today (two and half hours drive with half of it in a major city); find the parking garage; and then hopefully receive treatment to restore my clear sight.  It might be as simple as a needle withdraw and injection of antibiotics or surgery.  In either case, nothing by mouth since midnight and the appointment is late this afternoon.  Which is worse, the dirty screen I'm seeing through or the smells of breakfast?  Don't ask at this point.

Sunday, August 8, 2010


Tomorrow is my second chance at new sight. If all goes as well as the first surgery, I will be able to see better than I have for over half a century.  Imagine being able to glance at a bedside clock in the middle of night and seeing the time; absolutely delightful.  Imagine being able to take a shower and actually see what bottle you grab to wash your hair; unbelievable.  Imagine being able to roll and see the smile of your Grandlove upon waking; precious beyond words.  Imagine glancing up at the television and being able to read the program guide, without squinting; nice. 

Unless you've struggled with seeing it would be difficult to know what a gift newly restored sight is.  If you're down in the dump, think no one is happy or just what a free smile:  Show up at the Eye Center Tuesday morning and you'll be amazed how wide smiles can be when the world comes into focus for those of us who undergo the surgery on Monday.


This doctor's promises ring hollow with me and I have the scars to prove it.

Don't you wish that you were Emily and not Steven?

Wonder when we will see the tapes of Ryan?  Probably wouldn't surprise any of us.

Saturday, August 7, 2010


I wonder if I can order either of these cakes for the end of the year "celebration".  After all, we celebrated the beginning of the journey of our daughter and her chosen one.  Now that his out of control anger has killed any possibility of a healthy relationship, I guess I should contact the wedding baker and place the order. 

No, I'm really not going to order a cake, but I like the idea of the designs.  Have to keep my  sense of humor during these times of packing away wedding portraits, family pictures, etc. 

Wednesday, August 4, 2010


Not long after daughter and Grandlove left, Bentley claimed his comfort spot and passed out.  He had to be with the baby throughout the entire visit and fretted constantly when closed doors kept him separated for all the action.  Kissing the baby, catching flying food from the high chair and getting belly rubs kept this little guy on high alert for the duration of the visit.  His "nap" lasted for quite a long while and a few squeaky, sleepy yips punctuated his dreaming.  If he could talk, he probably would let us know that he likes it when the company comes, but he LOVES it when they go home. 

Tuesday, August 3, 2010


These two brave soldiers' scars don't show, unless you look deep into their eyes.  The war is claiming too many young people and the dogs who give all to keep everyone safe.  Suffering PTSD, whether the canine version or human type, is one of the price of "WAR".  Too costly for too many.

Sunday, August 1, 2010


This was his first ice cream cone and boy did it top off the great lunch he ate!  Nothing much left at the end, just a bit of a cone, a messy face, smiles all around and a satified tummy.

At the end of supper, at home, we laughed at all the "leftovers" stuck to his fair skin.  If you check out the satified look on his face, you can tell that this little guy loved his Nana's Chicken Spaghetti, carrots, fruit, and vanilla wafers for dessert.

At the end of a long day, who doesn't need a shampoo "mohawk" and a few toys in a bubble bath?

We ran errands, went to an appointment, ate well, played hard, bathed with good toys and finally passed out next to a very tired Nana who was reading in bed.  Life is good.