I have to talk about glasses today. I’ve needed to wear reading glasses since
about 1990 and I can’t count how many pairs I have destroyed or lost in that
time. If I had to wear them all the
time, it might be different but I only put them on to read and have to take
them off at other times ... and when I take them off, I forget about them so
they fall to the floor or are sat upon or slip into crevices where they can’t
be seen. Marilyn just shrugs her shoulders when I complain that I’ve lost my
glasses, (but it doesn’t stop her borrowing a pair of mine when she can’t find
hers).
Usually I have about half a dozen pairs on the go at any one
time: a pair in the car, the caravan, my computer case, on the desk, and so
on. When I had my eyes checked in
September, I had two more pairs made to top up my supply. And I’ve been pretty good – not a single pair
misplaced since then. Or at least not
until last week.
I was vaguely aware that a pair of my new glasses was
missing but I wasn’t worried ; there were several other pairs to fall back on
and I expected that the lost ones would turn up at some time. And they did – I noticed them yesterday
afternoon, buried in the ground near where I park the car. I could just see the top of the rim peeking through
the surface. Clearly they had fallen on
to the ground and the car had run over them, forcing them vertically into the
dirt. I couldn’t pull them out with the
fingers and had to get a spade to chop out the whole sod.
I thought they were deceased; maybe I should have left them
buried. But apart from being a bit bent
and one of the lenses having popped out, there was nothing broken or missing so
I rinsed the remains and took them in to the optometrist for a diagnosis. “Leave them with me and come back in an hour.
“ I can’t believe it; she worked a
miracle and they look like new again and, best of all, there was no
charge.
No comments:
Post a Comment