Every Christmas, Claui's folks give us amaryllis bulbs, planted in beautiful tureens or other containers. They bloom and bloom on our dining table and when they are finished, I move them to the greenhouse, in hopes of a repeat performance. Which hasn't happened until now--this beauty from several years back is putting on a show. And there's a bud on another one in the greenhouse! Where there's life, as they say, there's hope!
Which brings me to the subject of my recent doctor visit--I have to go once a year and have blood drawn so they can make sure my thyroid medicine is working properly. So off I went and when, after a bit of a wait, the young man in skinny jeans who is my provider popped into the room and said, "Well, I didn't think I'd ever see you again," I was a little puzzled.
Did he think that at my advanced age, I wasn't likely to return? (I was already a little rattled by some of the questions the intake person had asked before taking my blood pressure. Did I experience feelings of hopelessness? Did I ever feel like life wasn't worth living? Or words to that effect.)When I asked just what he meant about not seeing me again, he grinned and held out a copy of Crows. He'd purchased after my last visit a year ago and wanted me to sign it. Well, okay then. See you next year. I hope.
