Just Like the Ones I Used to Know

Looks like we're heading for another brown Christmas here. The only glob of snow left in the yard is what's left of the hump the snowplow pushed off the driveway. Turkeys are prowling the front yard, gleaming copper & red when their feathers catch the sun. Handsome birds, but it's too bad they rip up so much grass with their scratching.

The gas bubble in the operated eye is half dissolved now, which means I've got a jiggling horizon of fluid running right across the middle of its field of vision. Since your brain flips the signal because the image on the back of your retina is inverted & reversed, everything looks like I'm standing on my head half-submerged in the ocean. But only in one eye. Though I still see the quaver even when it's closed.