OH I don't wear them all slid down my nose like that all the time, no, because then I'm not really looking through the lenses, am I? And what good would that be? If you look closely, you'll see that the fronts are black, and the sides are green, and yes that is a glass of Riesling behind me and no, I'm not always so stern-looking. Except when you're in my way or you're not moving quickly enough for me or you're not doing what I told you to do.
See? Green. And not so stern. And books! Up top, Michael Ondaatje and Carol Shields, Nino Ricci and Robertson Davies, a slice of CanLit. Under the cribbage board, Jose Saramago, John Berger and Mavis Gallant....and then Michael Ignatieff goes and sneaks in with his loving tribute to Irving Berlin. Isaiah Berlin. And Pilgrim by Timothy Findley, which is a lovely book that is impossible to understand. Or else I'm an idiot, which is quite possible. Down below that, some old books, some art books, some other stuff I can't remember, and my wine.
I would much rather show pictures of myself than talk about all the garbage that went on today. Let's say you make a decision not to do something you usually do, because circumstances have changed today and you have to change your routine. Then say your colleague totals his car just a minute ahead of you on the road, so you pull up and there he is, and his little Echo is all smashed-in and he's on the phone with his wife and then his insurance agent and then who knows who...and in the end he's okay and you take him home again later in the day? Would that not be the perfect icing on the Dad's dying cake? Naturally it would. Then say later you're hoping to pick up a coat that needed a repair, and the repair people say, "No, it's not done. We said Tuesday after 6:00 and we don't mean before 6:00. We can't get it done before 6:00," which is fine but then they feel all guilty for upholding their policies and try to get me to hang out in the mall for a couple of hours so they can work on the thing and no, really, I don't care if it's not done, I just thought I'd see if it's done. Uphold the policy, by all means. I am absolutely the most impatient person on the planet, but I'm the last person who will stand there and say, you do the work for me now, ahead of all these other people who by rights should be ahead of me. It seemed very weird to me and I scooted out of there quickly. I can get the coat another day.
Anyway, instead I went and picked up my new glasses and here they are, and now I've been wearing them for a few hours and no more are they making me dizzy (although they seem to be affecting the way I write, and not in a good way) but they are pinching my head and things have been so insane today I really, really just want to go to bed. Thursday I'm going out west to see Dad, and we shall see if he's cheating Death or not. This would be the third or fourth time that the final scythe has missed him, so who knows. Maybe this is it. I will see for myself in a few days.
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