I picked up my new glasses yesterday afternoon. That isn't really where I planned on starting, but it is probably the most important event. I knew I couldn't see well, but I didn't really appreciate how badly I saw until I put my new glasses on and the world suddenly snapped into focus. Putting them on I was transported to the day I wore my first pair of glasses. I was 21 and I looked out my dormitory window completely entranced by the details of the leaves on the trees, rather than the impressionistic, late Monet view of the world that I had previously experienced. The change wasn't that dramatic, but it was enough of a change that I really noticed the details and even the familiar drive home seemed new.
George took this picture of me with new glasses while I was taking a break from putting up bookshelves and moving books yesterday. It is not a particularly glamorous shot, but hey, new glasses were worth running out for even if I was dressed for shelf building not shopping. I had originally toyed with the idea of going into NYC for fancy glasses, but when I learned that my stronger eye saw better without my glasses than with them, I knew I just needed glasses ASAP and I am really happy with this pair.
What I wore:
New glasses by Lindberg
Ancient sweatshirt picked up when I was shopping at Ross Dress for Less with my sister-in-law Ann, who passed away last year, which makes this a priceless part of my wardrobe.
Cartier hoop earrings purchased from Beladora last year. These have become my standard wear with everything earrings, the ones I wear with jeans or chinos, or whenever I don't know what else to wear. I suspect they fill the role that diamond studs are supposed to fill, but I learned that I am just not a diamond stud kind of woman.
On Sunday George and I went to a piano recital in Beacon, part of a series we had attended for years prior to this year, and we had a wonderful time. I was thrilled that he wanted to go, as I have been torn between wanting to go to the concerts and feeling somehow that leaving him behind would be disloyal, especially considering how much we used to enjoy going to conerts together.
A month ago he never wanted to go to a concert again, but then one day something clicked, and his attitude changed. The entire concert was gorgeous, but the high point, as far as I was concerned, was the Schumann Arabeske, which was just tender and beautiful and filled with yearning. The program notes said it was militant in places, but I didn't get that out of the piece, just exquisite tenderness alternating with deep longing and yearning, which was almost overwhelmingly palpable, but not militant. I wonder how much what we experience from music depends on our own emotional states and readiness or lack of readiness for a particular feeling. Increasingly I think these things are open to interpretation, but then again I wonder if this is just ignorance of musical theory on my part.
G was focused and attentive and great company and we had a wonderful time. It was sweet being with him, much like it used to be years ago, before he started to get somewhat restive in concerts. It made me very happy. Afterwards we got soaked in the pouring rain as we didn't quite manage to run to the car, and then we went out for Mexican food. We shared an order of guacamole, after which G had enchiladas de mole and I had my favorite succulent slow-roasted pork, cochinita pibil. By the time we got home, after another slow-motion attempt at a mad dash through the freezing rain, we were cold and wet so we just put on jammies and cuddled on the sofa watching mindless silly TV (Journey to the Center of the Earth) which seemed like a fitting end to a lovely day.
