Well, I'm soon going to find out if Dorothy Parker was correct when she said: 'Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses'. I've finally had to accept that my eyesight isn't as good as it used to be and that if I wasn't going to poison my family by not being able to read cooking instructions or medicine doses, I would have to get reading glasses.
Despite the fact that the very pleasant optician told me that I had done well not to need glasses as soon as I passed
forty, I do feel that it's a sign of growing older.
Although I've come to accept the idea that I'm middled aged, helped by remembering the words of a friend who pointed out that once anyone turned 35 they had reached half of 'man's allotted span of three score years and ten', I really don't feel much different than I did when I was in my twenties. Okay, I'll accept that I need more sleep and that staying out half the night doesn't hold much appeal to me any more, but I think I'm pretty much the same person, with the same ideals and beliefs. That's not to say that I haven't acquired a certain wisdom (I hope) that comes with age, of knowing what's important and what's not.
So I will try to look at my new glasses as a badge of honour. And I will try to tear myself away from pbase and get back to reading.
These are my new glasses with a beautiful leather bound copy of 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' by Oscar Wilde which I picked up at a discount book store for less than the price of a paper back. A real treat and a book I look
forward to re-reading.