the collateral damage from this bit of artistic warfare proves unfortunate. I puzzle, as well, at how the brilliant genius of buying a second pair of bifocals got "lost in the haze" of then putting that second pair in a safe place I can no longer remember--other than to know, deep down, that when I find them, I will say to myself "a ha! That *was* a safe place".
Last night I stopped at the Town East Mall in Mesquite, where the kind and attractive eyeglass professional assured me that the eyeglass frames were so bent that I must take them to the franchise outlet of the redoubtable ascended Eye Masters to seek help from the wizards, or at the very least a warranty replacement. I think I am still within warranty, as I will be disappointed if I must instead bring the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West (Margaret Hamilton always reminds me of a very dear friend of mine of whom I am fond whom I first met in 1979, but that is another story).
My car, having been through a frighteningly extensive service a few weeks ago, suddenly had an "engine light" pop on, so I must check the gas cap, and, failing that being the answer, take it into the Hyundai people once more for a twice-over. I am glad I am still in warranty,and that I never crush my car in my sleep.
I wore my sunglasses to drive to northeast Texas and rendezvous with my sister's family, where my 13-year-old nephew was transferred from her vehicle to mine. He's a great fellow, nearly as tall as I am. We plan to fish and shop and perhaps take a swim today. We watched our Arkansas Razorbacks basketball team go down to ignoble defeat by USC in the NCAA tournament television program, but we are nonetheless looking forward to the day.