Can you believe it? I wrote this same post (that I just posted) back in December 2024 and did not follow through with it! A better post, too.
This is it….
“I love it when I check the time and see that it is 12.12 on the 21st. Always gave me a little tweak of emotional satisfaction to see the patterning. For a long time, for years, I thought that that was synchronicity at play.
A palindrome-like date is good too. The most recent one we had was 24 November 24, or 24/11/24
Mentioning that to a friend, he said it was just co incidence. “And it’s not even that,” he said. “I bet that kind of number confluence”— that is what he called it, I probably should google that for veracity—“happens so often you can’t call it co incidence.”
Of course, I set out to see what’s what and prove either me or him wrong.
I use a twelve hour clock.
12 x 60 = 720 minutes
Set them out in a table, 12 columns across the top left to right; 60 rows top to bottom. 720 cells.
Write in only the numerals where there was a definite pattern.”
Lol, from here on re read my latest on this topic.
The story about the lack of posts last week? It all started with a trio of crow’s feet. The wrinkles aka grooves and ridges beside your eyes, resulting from years of scrunching up your eyes against too much sun. Everyone over forty will have them.
Last Monday, as I planned to go into the sun light burgeoning down, I spread SP15 over my face not taking the required care as it turned out. After about an hour my right eye started twinging.
Oh right, I thought, sunscreen has sweated down the grooves of my crow’s feet into my eyes. Because that is a thing, right? Well, I hope you’ll tell me I’m not the only person that happens to.
It’s the way that Thorny Devils (Moloch horridus) get their water. They don’t drink. Their ‘crow’s feet’ all lead to their mouths and moisture leaks into them.
When I got home, I washed out my eyes. Washed the remains of the sunscreen off. Got the eye-baths out, and the eye drops to soothe my eyes.
Next day, I didn’t go out. Eyes about the same. Did it all again, about three times. Eye-baths. Eye drops. All to be expected. I was prepared for a two-day recovery.
Rest of the week? Right eye the worst. Like sand in there. I lost count how many times I filled the eye-bath with cooled boiled water, pressed it into my eye-socket and fluttered the eye-lid, hoping to dislodge the … what?
Crystalized sunscreen lotion? Yeah I know, we grasp at anything to make meaning. A deep ache developed. Who knew eye-balls have pain receptors? The left eye, though not suffering the original disaster, refused to work by itself and went on strike. It wept non-stop.
Then it was the weekend. No GPs available even if I’d decided to brave the relentless light out there. Monday AM I called the eye specialist. They are lovely people who said, Come down right away, we’ll fit you in.
I wrapped my head with a scarf. Pulled apart the windings so I could see a thin sliver of light, and where I’d be going. I felt like an Inuit in a snow storm despite that it was 35 degrees Celsius outside. Then put on 2 pairs of sunglasses one over the top of the other to make it dark enough.
Once the unidentified muck was plucked from my right eye-ball it started to recover. However, the inflammation had also to be addressed. Result of that, I’m on a once-a-day antibiotic for a month. The kind where you can’t go out in the sun because you’ll get burnt.
In the expectation that my gut would be my next concern, I bought probiotics too. So far so good.
On the way home, popped into the local St Vinnies (thrift/secondhand store) and bought a couple of long-sleeved shirts from their 50% sale. Kind of a synchronicity, I suppose. And stay out of the glare was the other thing.
Apart from all that, it’s pretty amazing to have something more than the usual stuff in common with a 20 centimeter Thorny Devil.
Rita de Heer 