I CAN SEE CLEARLY NOW

 I'm anti-progressive when it comes to glasses. I read with my entire face. No, really -- when I am deep into reading a book, the last thing I want to do is hold my head and neck steady so I can read through the lower portion of my glasses. I've tried bifocals and it's just an unnatural way to absorb text.

So, I buy my glasses sometimes off Amazon but mostly at Christmas Tree Shop for $3 or $4 per pair. I have driving glasses and reading glasses; never the two shall meet. I always travel with an extra set of reading glasses in case I have a problem with one pair for some dumb reason. As for my driving glasses, I bring along one pair for regular driving and a pair of sunglasses (yes, at +1.50). 

Recently I drive with part of the fam to see other parts of the fam. No problem, right? I have my driving glasses, and all is right with the world.

Until it isn't.

Saturday night, about thirty hours into the trip, I bust my driving glasses. It's okay because they're cheap glasses, and also it's okay because I still have my sunglasses. I just can't drive until the sun actually comes out. Part of the way into Day #2 of the driving, we stop at a pharmacy chain store. Surely they will have reading glasses in various strengths. They do!  Two pairs: 1.00 (zero magnification, so just for show) and +3.0 (even stronger than my readers). 

Luckily, about six hours into the day, we stop at a convenience store/gas station. Voila! They have glasses, tons of them. I have to pay $19.99 plus tax for new driving glasses, but our safety is worth the money spent. for the price I paid for one pair of glasses, I could go to Christmas Tree Shop when I get home and buy five pairs in various colors and patterns and shapes. 

Next time, though, it's "lesson learned" for me. I will bring back-up driving glasses on road trips, too. 

PUPPY PATROL

 

My sister's family recently brought home a puppy. She is nine weeks old and adorable and funny as all get-out. Her name is Helen, but I've nicknamed her Highwater. Helen Highwater.

It's easy to forget how wonderful a puppy's belly feels when you've been away from one for so long. I've decided that everyone should have a puppy belly to rub every day at work. It would make our jobs so much better.

At the end of my visit with Helen Highwater, I'm not sure who's more tired -- the puppy or me. It amazes me that the next time I see her, probably in a couple of weeks, she won't be the same little ball of fuzzy belly anymore. Oh, sure, she will still be A puppy. She won't be THE puppy. 

She may be house-trained completely by then. She may have more of a personality by then. She may be speaking more by then. But she won't have that newly-weaned puppy belly anymore, and I'm really glad that I had a chance to get to Maine and visit her before she turned into a regular puppy. No doubt she will still be adorable and fuzzy and soft, but we all know how quickly that elastic belly becomes a real dog belly, hairy and ready to be tickled under it's paw-pits.

Welcome to the family, Highwater. Save me some of that belly to rub for next time.

COME ON, SUMMER

Come on, 

     Summer. 

You can do it.

I hear you peeking 

     Over my shoulder.

I feel you bursting 

     At the spring seams.

I taste you sweetening 

     With anticipation.

I smell reeking 

     Of damp earth.

I see you winking 

     After sunset.

Stand up.

     Take a step.

     We're all waiting.

Come on;

You can do it.

WARMTH ON . . . WARMTH OFF

 

Hot . . . Cold . . . Hot . . . Cold.  Heat on . . . Heat off . . .  Air conditioner on . . . Air conditioner off . . . Windows open . . . Windows shut. 

Welcome to Spring in New England.

Commonly called "mud season," Spring is the official time of year when it is 70 degrees for a couple of days -- just enough time for the flowers to pop up and the snowblowers to be stored away -- and then it's sub-zero with snow the following few days. It's the time of year when frozen mud creates concrete-like driving obstacles.

This is when people from New England laugh at visitors from out of town. Oh, you brought your winter coat? Too bad. It's 80 today. Oh, you brought your flip-flops? Well, it snowed a foot last night, so good luck with that. 

I always laugh when my friends and relatives tell me that they've packed away their shovels and winter clothes by April 1st. People, do you not remember the April Fool's storm that dropped two feet of snow? Do you not remember the year it rained every day for six weeks straight, flooding everything from parking lots to apartment complexes to roads and highways -- and when the sun finally came out, we were all blinded like star-nosed moles? Did you forget that Mother Nature is Mother F#@%$&'s evil twin?

I still have my Christmas lights up on my porch. I don't always turn them on, but they're there, just the same. I still have my snow shovel handy. I can still access my scarves and mittens. My snowshoes are still in my car at the ready. 

But, I'm no fool. I also have my shorts close by and my sandals are just a short stretch near the sneakers. Sunscreen is always, always at the ready.

How can you tell that it's truly Spring in New England? Watch the shoulder-shrug-arm-roll. This is the cool move we make when pulling a sweatshirt on . . . no, off . . . no, on again . . . wait, now it's off again . . . We locals have perfected it, but it's awfully fun to watch the tourists try and pull it off.