Hogsites and octopus
Calliope alarm went off at a sensible 7:10 this morning. After I took her feet off my face, I peered out from my window to see the twitten thick with groundhogs. Yep. More slogging on the website for most of the day.
The work, however, is quite interesting. I have learned something about the workings of the eye. Apparently the aqueous humour in your eyeball is produced by a tiny gland called the ciliary body. All is well when the same amount of this fluid is able to drain away, through a little spongy drain called the trabecular meshwork.
But when the drain begins to get blocked, pressure builds up inside your eyeball and this begins to damage the optic nerve, which causes glaucoma. Glaucoma can be treated with daily eyedrops to keep the drains open, which is a good thing. Annoyingly the brain compensates for loss of vision so sometimes you only find out you have it when you have lost up to 40% of your optic nerve function. This is why eye check-ups are vital, and why I'm writing this part of the website.
After work I went to the gym and did what was for me a full-on workout, and I worked up a sweat. I am really pleased to be exercising again, and I do enjoy it. However the other side of the see-saw, my food intake is becoming a bit less disciplined as I am so cooped up doing hogsites (© pk enterprises) that I snack through boredom. I have developed an unhealthy liking for organic dates, which are a sweet as toffees, and probably just as bad for you.
Out late this evening to a Greek restaurant. Lorraine was taking Beth and Mark out for Beth's birthday, and I was invited too. Beth's speech, which I'd helped her with a little the other day, had gone down well, and she was doubly cheery. Lorraine had booked, but the restaurant was almost empty. But we drank some Mythos beer and were cheery over many and various Greek foods. Beth gobbled down an octopus leg, which surprised me.
I was left reflecting that in the UK people rarely suddenly feel a sudden craving for Greek food, as compared to say a curry. It made me wonder if this is a historical or cultural thing. Did peckish Trojans look up from their labours and think: you know what, I could murder a Greek tonight.
Ah well.
Calliope alarm went off at a sensible 7:10 this morning. After I took her feet off my face, I peered out from my window to see the twitten thick with groundhogs. Yep. More slogging on the website for most of the day.
The work, however, is quite interesting. I have learned something about the workings of the eye. Apparently the aqueous humour in your eyeball is produced by a tiny gland called the ciliary body. All is well when the same amount of this fluid is able to drain away, through a little spongy drain called the trabecular meshwork.
But when the drain begins to get blocked, pressure builds up inside your eyeball and this begins to damage the optic nerve, which causes glaucoma. Glaucoma can be treated with daily eyedrops to keep the drains open, which is a good thing. Annoyingly the brain compensates for loss of vision so sometimes you only find out you have it when you have lost up to 40% of your optic nerve function. This is why eye check-ups are vital, and why I'm writing this part of the website.
After work I went to the gym and did what was for me a full-on workout, and I worked up a sweat. I am really pleased to be exercising again, and I do enjoy it. However the other side of the see-saw, my food intake is becoming a bit less disciplined as I am so cooped up doing hogsites (© pk enterprises) that I snack through boredom. I have developed an unhealthy liking for organic dates, which are a sweet as toffees, and probably just as bad for you.
Out late this evening to a Greek restaurant. Lorraine was taking Beth and Mark out for Beth's birthday, and I was invited too. Beth's speech, which I'd helped her with a little the other day, had gone down well, and she was doubly cheery. Lorraine had booked, but the restaurant was almost empty. But we drank some Mythos beer and were cheery over many and various Greek foods. Beth gobbled down an octopus leg, which surprised me.
I was left reflecting that in the UK people rarely suddenly feel a sudden craving for Greek food, as compared to say a curry. It made me wonder if this is a historical or cultural thing. Did peckish Trojans look up from their labours and think: you know what, I could murder a Greek tonight.
Ah well.
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