My vision used to be perfect. And I mean perfect. Sharp and accurate. People asked me to thread their needles and read the fine print to them. I prided myself in my ability to see well. This is no longer the case.
When I hit forty, literally, my vision began to decline. I had to start wearing reading glasses. And I began the eternal struggle of keeping up with my reading glasses. I can’t say how many pairs I have lost over the years. I tried contacts with limited success. I finally opted for graduated lenses so I could wear them all the time and see faraway, as well as near.
Lately, my vision has become progressively worse since I have now been afflicted with cataracts! I view this more of a bothersome thing than any real health issue. I can still see, though not as well as I used to. Colors probably don’t appear to my eye in their true shade. But this condition is annoying so I will have them removed. However, I’m in no rush. I’ll put it off as long as possible because the surgery and recovery is simply going to interfere with my lifestyle! I have things to do!
A few weeks ago, part of my family and I went to one of the local corn mazes. It’s pretty elaborate, as corn mazes go. A haunted barn, two mazes (one for us regular people and one with zombies), tons of activities for the kids, and a pumpkin patch.
We took our time and leisurely strolled around the grounds, allowing Baby B – the great-granddaughter – to lead us to whichever activity she was interested in doing. We watched as she went down slides, chased frightened rabbits in the petting zoo, and peddled a ‘go-cart’ around the track. She posed tirelessly for us so we could commemorate the activities with photos. She knows what to do; she has spent her entire life doing this. There were inflated bouncy houses, swings, and ‘zip lines’ barely inches off the ground, especially constructed for the little ones. But the thing that the baby liked most was the corn pit.
After an initial tentative walk through the loose kernels of dry corn (after she realized it was not like water and she would not sink to the bottom!), we could hardly get her out of the ‘pool’. She jumped in and made angels with her arms and ‘swam’ through the yellow mass. She even let us partially bury her but only up to her knees. Then she was up and running, crawling, and jumping again. She wore herself out.
With her energy level waning, we decided that it would be prudent to pick out our pumpkins and prepare to go home. We boarded one of several wagons that would take us to the field where we could walk around and pick out that one perfect pumpkin. Slowly it took us out along the dusty trail, up the hill, past rows and rows of bright yellow sunflowers until we finally could see the pumpkins. Bright orange, yellow, white, and a green so dark it looked almost black. They were in every shape and size. Surely, we could find one or two we liked!
Like the baby, I was tired, so I decided to sit and watch while my party drug their wagon from plant to plant in search of the most perfect specimen. While they were gone, I sat in the shade and observed my surroundings.
On the other side of the field from where we were was a quaint farmstead. A cute little house, barns, and outbuildings. A pond in the distance. Sheep in the field. Very picturesque.
My group returned, loaded their acquisitions onto the wagon and we all took our seats to be taken back to our car. As we jostled along in the wagon, I said to Baby B, “Look over there,” pointing to the little farmstead. “Isn’t that pretty? See those white sheep in the field?”
She looked then turned her cute little face up to mine with a puzzled expression.
“Well, they might be goats,” I acquiesced. I couldn’t really tell from this distance.
I glanced up at my son, who was looking at me with a quizzical mixture of humor and concern, that one cocky eyebrow raised, questioning.
“Mom,” he said in a tone I had heard before. Not quite patronizing but teetering right on the edge. “Those are geese.”
I looked at him, doubting. Then squinted at the white objects in the field. Hmmmm…
I guess I’d better schedule that eye surgery soon.
In my defense, those were very large geese!