Glasses

 I started wearing glasses when I was 20. I liked wearing them; they were a prop, a disguise, a screen, an element in the persona I was building for myself. They made me look intellectual. Had I been been born twenty years earlier I might have completed the ensemble with a cherrywood pipe. 

Puff, puff, puff...

I went with metal frames. I sometimes thought of upgrading to granny glasses but people would have thought I was paying homage to John Lennon and- much as I love the guy- I'm nobody's groupie.

More recently my personality has been expanding and I've favoured glasses with brightly coloured plastic frames- red or pink for preference. I love colour. 

Colour, colour, colour! 

(By the way, we're having the back of the house painted blue)

However, three days ago we were in Tesco- and I removed my glasses for some reason or other- possibly to scratch my nose- and I realised I was seeing things at a distance more clearly than with them on.

Our vision is changing all the time and- bugger me- I seem to be going long-sighted. 

I haven't worn my glasses since. 

I regret the pink frames, but I'm still making the point about colour with my stripey socks and pullovers.