Fall is nearly over here in Vermont. The morning air is no longer “nippy.” It’s cold. And it’s a search to find pie pumpkins – they are being snapped up by discerning bakers for the Thanksgiving holiday.
Speaking of Thanksgiving, I have a lot to be thankful for this year. I’ll wax poetic on this topic closer to the day. But I have a new found appreciation for something that many of us rarely spend much time pondering.
I am thankful for my eyelashes.
Yep, those fun little follicles are not only “batters” in the eyeball game, although a carefully measured amount of batting can make all of us thankful in one way or another. But eyelashes are awesome “catchers.”
The loss of hair on my head was noticeable and dramatic. But when my eyelashes started to go, they went quietly, one or two at a time, until one morning I realized I barely had any left. A few long dark ones, and some tiny thin ones at the edges. My eyes took on a new look; puffy, tired and pale. Bald and without eyebrows and eyelashes, I looked a bit like a blue-eyed turtle.
My eyes became the target for everything that wafted in the air. Dust, fine hairs, lint, gnats…everything made a beeline for my now unprotected eyes. I blinked, I rubbed, I washed crusted eyelids, I applied that eye fluid that rhymes with “why-zine.” Well, now I know why-zine…those mighty little eyelashes were on duty, 24/7, protecting my eyes from boulder-like debris.
About 6 weeks ago I started to notice pegs of hair on my lids. Hurrah! The excitement grew each day as those little pegs elongated into actual lashes. And they brought friends – more than before. They stare back at me from the mirror, stout little soldiers all in a line, guarding my pupils.
Well, now dear readers, you didn’t think I would leave it at that, did you? Of course not. I had to go searching for some info on lashes. According to one site, the eyelash is similar to a cat’s whiskers, and warn the eye of impending doom. “Debris, debris! Warning, Will Robinson!”
If you were Greek, you would be reading about “blepharis.” Gesundheit.
I read about a snake with “eyelashes.”. Then I found a school site that tells about some eyelash freeloaders. Mangey critters. And one of my favorite authors, John Sandford, penned a Lucas Davenport novel that involved the lovely lash.
If I had been impatient, there is a drug that is said to help regrow eyelashes. Hmm. I don’t think I could have put my poor little eyelids through another drug after the long high they had this summer. Because I’d like to pamper them a bit. I’m off to do some batting…