That helped, but of course, the bottom line is that short of a major face-lift, I'm just going to have to adjust to the new face looking out of the mirror at me. After all, it's new only to me. My friends and family accepted it long ago, lines, freckles and all.
Then I began to laugh because I remembered when my mother had cataracts removed she said she was astonished at all the dust she had missed in the house. You had to know my mother to appreciate how that distressed her. She wore out a couple of bathtubs scrubbing them. That sort of thing never bothered me much, even though she tried to impart her housekeeping skills to me. Turns out, the wrinkle thing isn't bothering me much, either. I've spent decades sculpting them and have great memories to back them up. People who are beginning to see the aging process in themselves like to soften the blow by relating wrinkles to wisdom. I'd like to think it works that way, too, but I know some really silly old goats and some really smart whippersnappers, so it doesn't always equate.
Long story short, I can't wait to have the other eye done - I expect I'll be a lot smarter when I can see things clearly with both eyes.
While I was waiting for Fred at the bank this morning, I noticed this chimney. I think it needs work.
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