I love a good book. Not an e book. Not anything involving a screen. A good old fashioned book, one where you can feel the pages, peek ahead and see that you have three pages to the end of the chapter, turn the corners to mark your spot. Often the book will be second hand and there is a lovely inscription in the front, both to and from people you will most likely never know. A book has history, and it’s fun to be a part of that.
However, I have made it into my forties. Now, reading glasses make those tiny words readable again. So instead of grabbing the book and reading a chapter here and there, I have to grab the book, remember where I last had my reading glasses, begin that inevitable search that will ensue to find them, by which time the precious moment I had to read has been swallowed up by the glasses search.
That doesn’t even touch upon reading in a lovely bath tub of lavender bubbles, trying to read as the glasses steam up. Or trying to read while laying in bed and realizing you cannot lay on your side as your glasses get pressed against your face and it’s uncomfortable.
*sigh* I am so grateful for what I have, but I do wish my eyes had lasted longer, but I guess they are as old as the rest of me!
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