A PAIR OF LEATHER CLOGS

Mr. Coffee passed away.  We think he suffered a heating element attack sometime between yesterday morning and this morning.  During Covid, I wisely stocked up on Folger's coffee packets just for times like this.  Will there one day be a Caffeine Patch for us addicted coffee drinkers like the Nicotine Patch for the cigarette smokers?  Funeral arrangements are pending for Mr. Coffee, who will be interred in a garbage bag.  

Yesterday we trolleyed to my ophthalmologist appointment regarding my drooping eyelids.  Well, so much for online self-diagnosis.  Thought I knew exactly what tests they would do to test my peripheral vision.  Both of us watched videos showing how the corrective surgery is done.  I knew all about it.  OR, so I thought.

The only part of the experience that I was right about was the peripheral vision field test.  This test is done with one's eye lids drooping and the same test with eyelids taped up on the forehead.   I failed this test.  There was no question that insurance would pay for the surgery.  Next was taken to the surgeon's exam room, where a young guy wearing a mask skipped into the room, eager to take pictures of my face, primarily my eyes.  I couldn't resist asking him if he wanted my autograph too, and he chirped a muffled response and held up the electronic signature I'd provided at check-in.  

The doctor's light knock on the exam room door screamed of his meek demeanor.  A very neat petite man dressed in a white coat, expensive grey suit pants and black shoes and voice accent.  I didn't understand a word of his introduction.  I politely told him that I'm hard of hearing, to which he quickly raised his voice.....the way they do for old people.

Before entering the room, he must've reviewed my situation and failed peripheral field test, cuz he came out of the gate explaining the surgical techniques that my condition requires.  Then he dropped the bomb that he himself does not do that type of surgery.  In my case, it wouldn't work to remove some of the droopy eye lids the way I had read about.  Instead, I need to be referred to a plastic surgeon for a forehead elevation.  Holy Mother of God.  Let it be said that this is not a cosmetic procedure, but strictly one to improve my hampered peripheral vision.  The doctor wrote a litany of unintelligible words on a piece of paper, and I honestly think he expected me to decipher them.  He handed the paper to me, and I could tell he knew I was disappointed in this meaningless visit.  I felt like I was being passed on to the highest bidder. 

So, not only was I wrong about my self-diagnosed type of surgery, I need to wait another three months to see another doctor.  His first opening is May 30th.  I asked to be put on a cancellation call list.  Just when we think we have it all figured out, we're reminded that we take instructions, not give them.  Double drat.

 Here is the last of Van Gogh's paintings of shoes/boots.

A Pair of Leather Clogs - 1889

Van Gogh painted this pair of wooden-soled leather clogs in a meticulous pattern of small stripes.  French clogs were often made from a combination of wood and leather, while the classic Dutch clog is made entirely of wood.  Vincent placed the clogs on a tilted table, which is an unusual perspective.  They are positioned as if ready to be stepped into.  With their openings turned to face the viewer, the clogs pose an invitation to slip them on and walk away.  Is Van Gogh's message that no matter how difficult life may get, we must keep our feet firmly planted, keep looking ahead and moving forward?

Vincent greatly admired, and was influenced by, the still lifes of clogs done by the French painter Millet, who is known for painting peasant farmers.🖌