by hook, by crook...by optometrist

It was time for that annual appointment that I always dread...my optometrist visit. since I've been always been as blind as a sharp-sighted bat, these visits are a constant in my memories, much as soccer and various sport-type-things are in other's. I can deal with the bright shiny lights jabbing WAY too close to my sight orbs, and I can deal with the obsence wait (more on how I did that later), however....

I CAN'T STAND THE DILATION DROPS!!!!!!!!!!

Few things freak a poor-sighted person out more than their already quirky vision growing worse and worse before their eyes (yeah, pun, i know). I've got a double whammy, since I nearly lost an eye at nine, I can't stand pretty much anything within two feet of my eyes. Dr. Egge knows this all too well, after getting kneed in the chest by me at age ten.

Today, I tried to take things in stride, I had Trisha's birthday present in my large plastic tote bin and had a back copy of interweave as well in case things got too much to handle. I ended up throwing all normal dignity to the wind and just dragged the bin in with me, too much yarn to fit in the purse, and I hate it when my keys get caught up in it. Apparently, crocheting a toy gnome in an optometrist's waiting room is the perfect way to make friends...or at least get people to strike up friendly conversation.

The elderly gentleman sitting next to me informed me that his sister had won their middle school's sock knitting bee during WW2. She finished an army regulation sock in a hour and twelve minutes. He timed her at home to help her practice.

The woman sitting across from me, she looked terribly important with expensive shoes, tiffany jewelry, a blackberry AND a cell phone actually stopped and asked me "How do you DO that?" I mumbled that it really wasn't that hard and that if I could teach myself, anyone could learn.

So, diligently away I worked, pausing only to have the nurse test my vision and but in the f@$king drops. I wasn't at a good stopping point, so I decided to keep working until the drops stopped me. While in that impressively boring semi-dark room, I chatted with two ladies, who had both crocheted at one point and incidentally had German ancestry as well. One had the last name of Wagner and I told her all about ravelry and crochetme.com. After about fifteen minutes, I was alone in the room and focusing on the working more of the surface crochet I'm using for the gnome's hair. Then, something funny happened...my hook kept missing the yarn. At first, i thought that my hook had gotten twisted around (its happened before) and that there was nothing to grab the yarn, I looked closely, nope, the hook was fine. For the next minute or so, I kept stabbing groping for that strand of yarn with the hook, growing increasingly panicked as to what was going on.

Then a kindhearted nurse came over. "Its about three inches away from your hook, sweetie."

Oh depth perception, how I have taken thee for granted!!!

happy hooking ya'll!
g.o.
p.s. Trisha's bday present has changed from a voodoo doll to a gnome.