So, the combo of drugs had me knocked out cold for 20 of 24 hours on July 4; slightly better proportion of waking hours the next day.  I now seem to be acclimating to the antibiotics (though anticipating the need for a round of probiotics immediately following; six more days).  This morning, we had to get up at 4:30 to get Paul in to the clinic at 6:30 for his fifth eye surgery.  He’s in for a week or 10 days of wearing what looks like the lid of a huge salt shaker taped over his eye before he goes to bed, and no even semi- macho stuff (lifting, etc).  However, when we went for a post-surgery breakfast, he was happily pointing to small things and saying, “I can read that!” which makes it all worth it.

I did have a (long) day in the garden yesterday, clearing out an incredible two-month growth of weeds that sprang up and thrived rampantly while I was traveling. I’m talking six-foot-tall weeds. I’m talking hundreds and hundreds of them. The actual plants were still in there, miraculously. We are a thistle paradise; I’m not sure where they come from, nor why they don’t seem to plague any of my neighbors.  If they were cool gargantuan Scottish thistles, I would love it, but they’re raggedy, nasty American ones and they’re everywhere.

 Tomorrow I take Paul for his follow-up appointment, hopefully get some of this Heilan Coo hair chopped off me heid, and then it’s full-tilt craziness till Jentel, my blessed last outpost of sanity (for now). Except for the nap I’m about to take. 

Above: Scottish Thistle in theory; Below: Scottish Thistle in reality. (Edinburgh)