Everywhere I turn/spinning in circles

Sunday offered a pleasant diversion in honor of our anniversary and a gentle, soaking rain. That meant Monday would have been the perfect time to pull weeds from the softened ground, but I only managed to pull some from the gravel driveway before going to work, then visiting a laid-up friend, then taking Brian to his violin lesson. When we got home, he and Rick unloaded a trailer load of hay they had picked up earlier in the day and then picked up the last load.

While they were working on hay, I did evening chores. I didn't see Oreo, our chief hay inspector, anywhere, though I called for her. A vague concern that has been niggling at the back of my brain crawled around to the prefrontal cortex.

It took a bit longer for another – not concern, more like a little anomaly – to march up and knock on that prefrontal cortex.

For a couple days I had noticed a small flock of floaters buzzing around the upper left side of my head. I had to consciously process that they were floaters, they looked so much like little bugs or occasionally stray hairs. Last night while doing chores, I noted with surprise and a little amusement that the black insects had turned into lightning bugs darting by my peripheral vision. It wasn't until after I got in the house and asked Rick to look at the outside corner my left eye, which now felt a bit dry and irritated, that I remembered something from friend Adrienne's blog. She has dealt with a torn retina several times, and mentioned floaters and flashes. This morning I sat down at my laptop and read her posts, then checked my preferred website for medical questions, mayoclinic.org. My search revealed this:

I have an appointment at 2:10.

No time to sit and fret; I went down to do morning chores. I saw Oreo sitting on the driveway so I walked over to check on her. She let me pick her up and hold her without struggling, NOT normal for our social but unsnuggly little barn cat. She's also lost a lot of weight. I called Rick and told him we have a compromised kitty on our hands, and asked him to bring home suitable meds and some canned cat food to tempt her. Then I gave her lots of loving; touch can be healing, after all.

Worrying about my eye and Oreo's health wasn't going to accomplish anything, however. Time-sensitive tasks are everywhere I turn. Strawberries need picking, weeds need pulling, hay needs procuring, fence needs fixing, sheep need shearing, fleece needs skirting. BUT – the rain had flattened the grass enough to make the tansy and thistles obvious and I had room in the trash bin, so I grabbed two feed sacks and a shovel. I got the bottom pasture cleaned out, then finished filling the sacks, packed down and overflowing, with weeds from the arena. Now I'm going to get in a quick ride on my pony before the arena footing dries out completely before heading to the ophthalmologist's office.

That's all I know for now at . . .