128. 20.05.2012 out of focus

128. 20.05.2012 out of focus

Well after yesterday’s experience at the optician, I’ve done very little today other than lie on the settee with a damp tea-towel on my forehead fending off self pity.

It was awful. The nice lady behind the desk was lovely though “You live in the stone house with the long drive don’t you?” she said “I can see your house from my kitchen window, but I’ve not got a pair of binoculars.”

“Well I have” I told her, ”but once my eyes are sorted out I won’t need them anymore”  She laughed as she walked away to fill the glass vials with hydrochloric acid that were to be squirted into my eyes in the comfort of a dark, soundproofed and locked room.

We talked about the owls and how we can hear them   “especially when you go down for a  glass of water in the middle of the night” she said.  I was going to pass comment on it being more than  just a glass of water in the middle of the night, but thought it best not to. What she doesn’t realise is that through my binoculars I can see her fridge light go on and off, and to be brutally frank,  I’ve seen one too many family sized trifles polished off before dawn.  Such behaviour is appalling and I personally would never stoop to such a thing. I know that the odd pot of clotted cream, lump of cheese and packets of ham have gone missing from our fridge, but as I point out to John – as I constantly point out to John – one of the downsides to living in an old house is the poltergeists who move things around and hide empty cartons on the secret shelf just inside the chimney breast or stuff cheese wrappers behind cupboards, especially ones in the dining room. John is by the way not exactly simple, but he does tend to believe these things.

Anyway, back to the optician. After having air blasted into my eyes,admitting that I could only see the first letter on the chart but felt certain that  there was a Q on the second line somewhere, the 50/50 quiz of guessing if the red or the green dots were brightest and three quarters of an hour saying ‘the same, better, or worse” as various things were slotted into the Dame Edna glasses she made me wear just so she could laugh at me.

She turned the lights back on and said “bi-focal”. The optician was from South Africa somewhere and I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question. “That’s just a vicious rumour” I said. The optician didn’t laugh.  Opticians never do though. It comes from years of sitting too close to people with bad breath. “Bi-focals?” I thought,  I wondered just whose house the woman down the road was looking up at when she looked out of her kitchen window, but it can’t be ours.

“Varifocals” she then said. There was really no need for that, so I swore back at her. You don’t go for an eye test to be insulted.

Anyhow, after the security guards had calmed the situation down, I selected a couple of pairs of glasses – it was a buy one get one free offer – I said buy one get one free – so I bought an everyday pair and some double glazing for the landing  as well as a pair of sensible rimmed ones (filthy innuendo not intended)  for the times when I need to look intelligent and sensible in the boardroom or other meetings.  Not that I’m sensible all that often.

Anyhow, today’s picture was taken from the meadows up on  Bryn Pydew looking  down towards the woods above Mochdre. It’s an example of depth of field with only a bit of it in focus and the rest blurred. It’s deliberate.  A bit like my eyes really.

Postscript, if the lady at the optician is reading this, it was lovely to speak to you and I’ll keep my eyes open for you in the Penrhyn Arms