Half deaf and Feeling Fine

We are up in the air again, speeding our way back to San Luis Obispo airport.  It is so much easier than driving.  However, those fabulous mountains below cannot be viewed for all the clouds.  Soft like a bowl of cotton balls.  Or piles of meringue heaped on top of a lemon meringue pie.  Yum.




We just spent three weeks dog sitting Izzy and Themza while the kids jetted off to New Zealand.  Since my left ear is still plugged, I also spent time getting my ears checked by a specialist who peered in with instruments that allowed my ear no privacy since the inside of my ear canal was posted on a screen for all to see.  Namely me.  It was confirmed after wax was lifted off my ear drum that I, indeed, had an Eustachian tube  full of fluid.  So that sealed the deal.  Doc wants me to continue squirting stuff up my nose twice a day and he wants to see me again May 19.  

Okay, then.  We will embark on our summer time stay in Portland earlier than first imagined so I can get there for my ear gazing experience again.  

Hearing is important.  And I know this through my grandfather’s experience.  One morning he awoke and was stone deaf.  Earlier in his life he burst an ear drum…I’m guessing from firing guns as unsuspecting deer wiggled their ears just one too many times and BOOM.  Grandpa fired.  Then in his 60s it was reported to me that he had a blood clot dry up in his ear.  Perhaps his Eustachian tube, but I don’t know.  And there began a a trying time for him and us.

Grandma and grandpa used to argue as many married people do.  Unable to hear her, she then had to start writing her arguments.  “Rollo, don’t throw your ashtray down on the table like that.”  He would then yell something at her like, “What else am I doing wrong, Mrs. Schuck?”  And he yelled loud because he couldn’t hear himself.  At that point, her scribbling became large and mighty, sometimes taking up a whole page for a mere sentence.  “ROLLO, I CAN’T TAKE THE SOUND OF THAT ASHTRAY CIRCLNG ROUND AND ROUND BEFORE COMING TO A COMPLETE STOP!!”.

And so it went.  

This is a fate I’m trying to avoid.  I will be successful because now they’ve got technology that will suck the liquid out of the tube.  Oh, Lordy.

While we sat the doggies, the skies were gray.  It rained most days.  I was down in the mud because I couldn’t exercise.  And I lost interest in cooking.  It wasn’t my kitchen for one thing.  And I was just low on enthusiasm.  

Just peered down 36,000 feet and there is snow on the ground.  Everywhere.  

The kids got home last night but we didn’t see them.  Ryan came down with covid on the way back so cousin Sue, picked us up and deposited us to our skinny house.  Then she graciously agreed to pick us up and drop us at the airport this a.m.  Obviously we will not meet up with them until we return in May.   What a bummer.  And with that info in our brain, I sit here fully masked for this journey.  And so is the Rayman.  Not many on this flight have masks on, and hardly any masked in the airport.  Oh, well.  That’s life.

So, now it’s your turn.  Let me hear from you!!

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