I am old Father William…

With apologies to Lewis Carroll.

Yes I have a few lines around my eyes and the skin on the back of my hands is looking a bit dry.  The spring in my step is a little less bouncy and my ability to recall the words of decades old songs is frankly a little unnerving but nothing makes me feel as old as having to hold things away from my eyes to focus.

I hate it.

Moving the text away from your eyes to focus fairly screams “old”.  And it’s not that I can’t focus, it just takes me longer and sometimes – say early in the morning – I can’t read the fine print on the back of the expensive hair stuff that goes with my GHD styling irons (have I told you how fabulous they are?). What’s up with that?!

Still it’s a big step to say yes to reading glasses.  I thought I was ready for them last week when a long session of reading aloud fine print (cyclone warnings for hours on end) left me with the beginnings of a migraine, so when my son was getting fitted for his new specs I tried on a few pairs.

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I’m tempted to say yes.  I can remember my mother going through the same battle.  She refused for years to wear glasses, choosing instead to do eye exercises and wear these odd black plastic pin-hole things that made her look like a human fly. The war against glasses continued for years – she managed to hold out til the age of 43.  An impressive effort I’m thinking now.

Groover has been noticing his eyesight failing too but he at 42 is determined to hold out for at least another year. We’ll see how long it takes him to reach for my glasses to read the fine print!

So yes it is giving up.  I know that getting glasses will increase my dependence on them and I should hold out as long as I can.  It’s lazy.  And expensive.  In my defence I offer up the (over)use of computers and other small screens and the fact that the average age for needing glasses is 40.

The fact is holding the print away from your eyes and squinting looks older than wearing trendy new specs… so there!