I Think

Good luck with that . My then g/f and I had that problem. Eventually she switched to hearing aids. It made life so much easier. Lowered both of our BP, too.

Yeah. My wife can't wear hers all the time. This morning one ear is painful. I think I need to pester her until she visits the doctor.

I just looked up lavalier (lapel worn) wireless mikes. On Amazon they can be had for $18-20. They can go for $180 + for PA system type if addressing a larger room.

If you (she) takes the time (revisits the doc) she can have them make a better fit and be pain free. Good luck.

Thanks. I intend to buy one this evening, if possible.

My wife has the kind of infection that, untreated, could bust an eardrum. She is on antibiotics now.

I'm sorry to see that. I had that happen after a bad cold when I was in basic training in the USAF in early 1971. It was serious but the antibiotics stopped it in time, luckily. I hope for the best for you guys.

She works in a daycare. That means she will always be in contact with illness.

that is so difficult. Cute kids very often, but they typically can come to the daycare with an infection 'cause parents feel obligated to send them off as opposed to keeping them home preventing them from infecting others.

I encourage her to take colloidal silver each night, but she will not until it's too late to stop any of it.

Here's hoping that the best antibiotic they can proide works for her.

She already feels a lessening of pressure.

that's a good sign. may it continue progressing that way.

This is a portion of a facebook exchange I read this morning:

(first poster) So I hear from one of my employees tonight " Can you fire me so I can smoke pot all day and collect unemployment ?" ...... And people wonder why restaurant managers are so stressed. Really? Really.

(other poster) I had someone ask me to fire them so they didn't have to put their kids in summer camp and they wanted unemployment to send them back to school.....ummmm no. Work go to school and raise ur kids. I did it.

Fifteen glorious years
Fifteen glorious years
Years of peace, years of war
Each year more glorious than the year before
Marat we're marching on
Behind Napoleon

Caught some Jack Benny programs on TV last night. He was rarely uproariously funny, but I admired his delivery and his personality. He was able to get stars on there to do skits and sing about Lucky Strike cigarettes. Even Humphrey Bogart guested and sang, "Luckies taste better- "

I heard on a newscast that cigarettes in Australia are going for $17 pack. A hundred and seventy per carton, by American standards. I have known people who smoke a carton per week. I wonder if any of them do, still? You could live a really fine lifestyle to use that money elsewhere.

Visited with the owners at work yesterday. A-OK.

The drought is back and becoming worrisome. I watered the trees this past week.

I wish I had some great writer's facility for expression. When I write I produce a journalistic prose, mostly. I read the pages again and again, first to make certain the words mean what they are intended to mean and on subsequent follow-ups punch it up. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. A candle among the stars. But I have moments when all this labor seems to be worth it.

You worry too much! Your prose is beyond reproach and easy to understand.

I like the fact that you don't use 1,000-dollar words when simpler wording is a better way to communicate to the masses. My boss at Florsheim taught me that simple rule. He told me to write administrative letters to store managers by writing in a way that the "dumbest" manager understands what is being communicated. It served me well throughout my working career.

When I was much younger, I made use of a broader vocabulary. I don't think big words necessarily convey more than the simpler ones.

Big Time by Peter Gabriel

"The place where I come from is a small town
They think so small
They use small words
But not me
I'm smarter than that
I worked it out
I've been stretching my mouth
To let those big words come right out"

The man mentions big words but says it with small ones.

And the meaning is as clear as a whistle.

I often smile when I recall the autobiographical musings of Erskine Caldwell. He had a dictionary, which he edited by crossing out every word of I think three and more syllables. He claimed to read that dictionary from cover to cover, once each year. His was not the finest prose, but he had a few books I liked a lot.