Today’s Special – January 13, 2021

Quite chilly here this morning.  Snow icing rooftops in the hood, every house a gingerbread house.  Not to worry over too much sugar; it’s the thinnest veneer.  Overcast skies continue to spritz occasional flakes. Not winter by “up north” standards, but still chilly enough to show you your breath as you go about odd outside chores, make you appreciate a heavy jacket and watchman’s cap.

What seems to me hesitant flakes intermittently falling may be my eyebones playing tricks on me.  My eyebones and my puny brain’s interpretation of collected data they relay to it are still not exactly one hundred percent considering recent, um, adjustments.

Which leads me to explain…

Today’s special

Mostly advancing age recently treated me to eye surgery.  Two surgeries.  On sale, pretty much buy one, get one.  Cataracts.  For a fact, not on a par with vision difficulty others experience.  Nonetheless, two months of prelim-to-post-op hoops and hurdles and discussion of possibilities, highly unlikely of course, made me consider less-than pleasant outcomes.

Readers know my mind doesn’t work like most everyone else’s.  Naturally, several scenarios mentally played-out.  Again, naturally, not content with what was, “what if” and “just suppose” materialized.  A short story, fiction and flash of the under-one-thousand words category wrote itself.  It subsequently required more revision and self-censoring than I particularly care for.

Then began social editing.  That still may be the reason I chuck it all in.  Toss in the towel as it were.  Comes a point, you can’t say nothing about nothing.  If “we,” society, maintain our present course. Whatever you say, or write, someone, somewhere will take offense, suffer hurt feelings, or consider you a radical, a monster, an unfeeling boob.  Unless you smart-up, swap your membership card for one issued by the religion presently (we are led to believe) popular, righteous, and infallible.  Refuse, you may be identified as a Repullican or worse,1 censured, outcast, and brought up on some trumped-up charge.

Sigh.  Life, Sally, ain’t all grins and giggles.  Somewhere, someone will feel cosmic indignation that your poem declared the sun a coward, hiding behind the clouds of momma’s apron. Dasn’t do things like that.

Off track.

Other folks I know faced and still deal with vision problems.  I’m now able to understand a bit more.  A little bit more. The volunteer story, “Corrected Vision” is not a poke, a slight, or insensitivity.  It is simply a piece of speculative fiction born out of my own experience.  If you for one, feel it might cause you distress in any way, as it involves vision difficulties, don’t go looking for it.

Go looking for it?  Yup. I’m not even gonna post a link.  You’re interested, you must go find it. Then, if you’re offended in any way, it’s your fault.

It’s a little odd that a real horse’s patootie2 should be concerned with inadvertently offending someone or hurting their feelings.  But that’s the way it is.  It may be a flaw I should work to overcome. Long shot, but it may mean that there’s a decent individual somewhere inside this old curmudgeon.  Not likely, but possible. At times it’s a pain in this horse’s patootie.

Wordplay

What single word might in a bit of wordplay be interpreted as an undressed formic quartet?

Some clever wordsmiths out there might glom onto an answer quickly.  Poemiticians especially, and others with minds slightly askew who routinely contort words.  Maybe not.  No answer here in this post, so as not to spoil it for my other two readers.3

On the odd chance no one blurts out an answer in comments, I’ll deliver my answer in my next post.  Tomorrow or the next day.  Or the next.

Excuse me.  I must go wax my snow shovel.

— Notes —

1 Not sure there is a worse than Repullican.  Fashionably at present worse than being a liar, a thief, influence-peddler, senile old bat, a womanizing sleepy old gaff, crazy misguided youth, condescending witch, or lawless brick shopper.  No, now, wait, see what you done?  You’ve caused me to make some Repullican’s feelings hurt. Um, sense that may be the only social group you can impugn with immunity.  Perhaps I’ll be called in and awarded a medal for advancing the cause of national serfdom.

2 Horse’s patootie. Impolitely, a horse’s ass.

3 Okay. I hear someone complain they have COVID-clearance to travel to Topeka to visit Aunt Agatha.  That’s two weeks out and two weeks back.  They don’t have a reader app on their cell.  Auntie Agg doesn’t do the computer thing. They don’t want to be burdened with reading all my posts between the time they leave and when they return. They ask a bit of forbearance on my part, that I relax the rules for this blog adjunct, providing the answer for those who cannot quickly figure it out.  Remaining somewhat recalcitrant, I’ll go this far: I’ll embed the answer somewhere in this post.  Now it’s an egg hunt.

Published by spwilcen

Retired career IT software engineer, or as we were called in the old days, programmer, it's time to empty my file cabinet of all the "creative" writing accumulated over the years - toss most of it, salvage and publish what is worthwhile.

22 thoughts on “Today’s Special – January 13, 2021

  1. Ski, how often do you post your writings? I liked your eye test! This darn Covid thing has forced me to keep my skis in storage and it is too cold to play béisbol.

    1. Post announced MWF but lately more often. Real “stuff” is off the blog home page, under “Writing.” Cheer up. When COVID gets whooped, we’ll all be playing or watching baseball and football and fishing, and visiting old buds. Hang tough and keep your skis waxed. Thanks for popping in.

  2. I’ve found that eye doctors are very good at giving out horror stories of what *might* happen, but somewhat less willing to speculate how likely that outcome is.

    I know… they can’t precisely, but they should be able to give ballpark estimates.

    I have found that we, as patients, need to almost learn what questions to ask. “You could go blind”… what use is that to anybody? We could all go blind. It’s like betting on something where they don’t disclose the odds.

    1. Tried to think of other doc situaions to compare. Couldn’t. Eyesight pretty scary, maybe because of the immediacy. While I don’t have super powers, I’m lucky my sight is pretty durned good after. Hope your issues continue to improve. Thanks for dropping in.

  3. Had to put my specs on to read the eye chart, but it was worth the exercise!🙂
    Sorry to hear about your vision problems, just another pleasure of ageing it isn’t. I have two out of five senses which require no medical intervention whatsoever! Is that good? Depends whether I look at it with my specs on, or my hearing aids in I suppose!
    I take offence, suffer hurt feelings, and consider you a radical, a monster, an unfeeling boob, at the notion that I, or anyone else with a valid and up to date WP membership card, would take offence or suffer hurt feelings about anything!😂
    Only joshing my American friend. Keep up the good work!

    1. PM – I too have hearing loss (jets, tractors, yelling women) and recent vision issues. Hearing aids look nice on my night stand. No glasses except for computing and sewing. Carry the new lenses with me, still have gravel in both eyes and some “sore” occasionally. Two out of six (extra perceptory deception is my nummer six) ain’t bad. I take solace in the fact I’m still pretty. Thanks for pausing here.

    1. Will do. Save that, she’s a swinging lady. Gardens in he back lot. Tall green plants. Cooks with them – socko brownies – and sells some to neighbor kids. Fad, huh? How about cell phones? Thanks for parking your craft here and dropping words.

  4. I’m sorry to hear about your eye problems. I hope that the cataract surgery was completely successful and the problems are over. I think eye doctors have a rather difficult situation when it comes to explaining the possible negative effects of surgery since they are dealing with someone’s vision. The eye chart sent a very good message and it would be good that lads all over take heed and actually do something active instead of something with a bloody computer or mobile phone in hand. Holding on to the mobile has probably caused some muscular damage in more than a few…
    Great post my friend. It is chilly here too. No more snow for the next 60 years, I reckon, but it is still cold. However, we are in the Mediterranean and it is always…almost always…sunny.
    All the best,
    F.

    1. Sir! Thank you for stopping in. Old age finally caught-up to this fellow, started with an eyeglass lens that would not “unsmudge.” All is well thankfully, so this doddering old clown has to satisfy himself with complaining of a bum shoulder and a son and Boss who forbid him from ladders. I find other polite dangers with which to amuse myself. Stay warm but get you and your Boss out for some Iberian sunshine – Vitamin D, you know. Best, SPW

      1. I agree with Boss and son who say stay off ladders. Writers on ladders never end well. And if anybody gives you grief about what you write, I can can attest that beneath that curmudgeonly exterior, your a kind-hearted, good soul who leaves encouraging comments for other writers. Keep up the good work!

      2. Not gonna be the male who fellow classmates chide at the fiftieth reunion, “Oh,yeah, you’re the wuss who pays a young snot fifty bucks to change a floodlamp!” just before they tell me I won’t basked to play defensive end in the charity alum-teacher’s basket ball game. No sir. Wife goes shopping, son off to work; I can get the ladder out, run 20-odd feet up; change the lamps; and have the ladder back in the garage before anyone is the wiser. Mack, across the street, also unfairly restricted from normal male stuff, stands by call the EMT’s if I swan dive. What’s life without a little challenge? Nice chat this morning, Bub, but I’m keeping an eye on you. You talk sedition. “Stay off ladders!” Indeed! What next, swap out all the tricycle JDs for squatty old Fordsons? Roll cages? Are you serious?

      3. Yeah, I think I’ve been indoctrinated lately. My wife has been harping on safety ever since we had our little one. I even thought about putting the finger guard back on the table saw. But as long as you’ve got Mack around to watch your back, that is safe enough. Just remember: Pride goeth before the ladder fall.

      4. Your Boss and my Boss must be related. Take delight in ruining our fun. But, um, the saw guard, I’m with the wife on that one. I fear knives, machetes, and saws more than feral boars, bullets, and bison bulls. Get the guard back on, Bub. Spect Mac wouldn’t remember to scout around for loose parts if I called him over for a runaway radial resuling in a race for rapid human repairs. Thanks for almost taking my side on the ladder issue.

    1. Have to do something. This writing business isn’t panning-out. Thanks for your vote, I appreciate the direction. Community college has a welding class and plumbing. I’m torn. They offer nothing in the arts, so comedy is pretty-much out of the question.

      1. Zooks. Shame on me. been working on Friday’s post. Broke for fresh coffee and see that you’ve been busy. I’ll see what you have to say. Earlier I did email the admission office over at the JC. Welding classes start the end of February, so I have a “Plan F.” Burned plans “B” thru “E” already.

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