This was a full day for me. I went out this morning to an optician to buy my new glasses with tinted lenses for the bright lights and computer strain that bother me sometimes. I found the glasses I wanted right away, and the optician, who was on the grumpy side, was blunt but helpful—no friendly chatter. I guess I’m used to warmth from the Saratoga nurses.

I picked the ones I thought were the most writerly. I always want to look writerly.

Tomorrow I’m going to the chocolate shop in Bennington, Vt. to get some fudge and chocolates for Dr. Daly’s Nurses; they have been wonderful and kind during the long and ultimately successful struggle to save my toe. They did everything they could.

I’m getting them the good stuff, fresh and covered in dark chocolate.

(The photo above is of my new baby pansies, fresh from the greenhouse. The hydrangea below is an indoor plan; I love the color. I hope it goes to Maria’s studio.)

The nurses deserve freshly made chocolate and fudge; Amish cookies are all they’ve gotten so far. Then I stopped to see John Riegel at Country Power Products to pay for 20 bales of additional hay – the bill was under $300. I had an hour-long sit down with John, the owner, who may be the nicest man I’ve ever met and a good friend now.

We traded country-city stories.

We even talked about Jews from Brooklyn. I am not one, but there are some in John’s town; his friend and doctor were one. He says they are funny and fascinating. I told him all the Jews I knew from Brooklyn were a little crazy.

But you’re not from Brooklyn, are you? He asked, smiling slyly.

No, I said, but I didn’t say there were no other Jews who were crazy, just like everyone else. John and I come from entirely different cultures, yet we are quite alike in many ways. At the core, we see the world in much the same way. John is a farmer through and through, and I am a city boy through and through.

(I love Maria’s very beautiful Stories From The Woods. a new series on her blog. She has the Thomas Merton flair for writing from te heart and in the moment.  I can’t pay any writer a better compliment than that.)

 

 

We have come to love each other and could hardly be more alike. I cherish my visits to see him.

This afternoon, I succeeded in my most recent scheme to challenge myself in photography – a new (to me) used Leica mirrorless camera.

I got a great offer for my Leica monochrome and agreed to trade it for a used mirrorless Leica camera in the SL2-S series. This will be a challenge for me; this Leica is faster and bigger than my monochrome and can use all kinds of lenses, not just the costly ones from Leica. I’ve never used a mirrorless camera before; I’m eager to try it.

I’m ready to learn. I’m scared to death.

This haggling and trading have been a Godsend for me, it is the only way I got my hands on a Leica camera, and I hope to learn a great deal from this one. It’s also how I traded my starter cameras for better Cannon cameras. I’m a first-rate haggler; it’s in my family bloodline. I’m very lovely but relentless.

Photography has been good for me, and I want to keep learning and growing.

The price for the monochrome, which I will dearly miss, was fair, and the trade is just about even. The camera might come tomorrow.

In a few months, I’ll start sniffing for a Sigma lens that works with L series Leicas. The Q2 only uses one attached Leica lens.

I’m excited about this, although pretty anxious as well. Losing a toe is nothing compared to figuring out a Leica camera’s inner workings and AI software. With any luck, I’ll take my first photo with the new camera on Operation Day next Wednesday. They probably won’t let me bring it into the hospital.

Maria says I cannot leave the car on the way home to take pictures, but I can take them from in the car. It’s a deal. I can’t promise anything, but I plan to blog every day, operation day, and beyond.

We’ll see. My good friend John Greenwood will meet us at the farm when we come home and help me get inside since m left leg will be completely numb for a day or two. The nurses say I better have some strong Ipuprophen or Tylenol on hand when the nerve block wears off.

My schedule is cleared for tomorrow and until Monday morning when I get my final clearance from my primary care nurse and also my pre-op exam at the podiatrist. My medications change radically on Monday for a few days and also tomorrow. I’m nervous but more than ready. I wish it were tomorrow.