Habitual glasses wearers are always surprised at the comments from non-glasses wearers who ask with pained interest how the glasses wearers can possibly see through the filth encrusted roundels of glass through which they are peering.
It is true that sometimes I have been shocked at the range and extent of detritus which has coated some lenses that I have used to aid my sight and once noticed the grime becomes impossible to ignore. But, it is only when some casual reflex action prompts an absent minded wipe that the archaeological layers of past civilizations in dirt on the glass become apparent.
I mention this because I have been swimming. As a purely quotidian hygienic procedure, rather like putting chlorine in the swimming pool, I washed the goggles that I use in Fairy liquid and placed them ready for their next use.
When I entered the pool this afternoon and put the goggles on I was shocked at the clarity of the water in the pool and the fact that trees have leaves on every branch. As the lenses are tinted a sinister yellow I had assumed that the murky world of the pool was a function of the colour of the lenses. It was like being in a Wilfred Owen poem during a gas attack. And then, with a little detergent a whole new world is revealed!
Like every glasses wearer that I know I have now decided to clean my glasses regularly. And like every glasses wearer I know I will not do it. Some lessons are never learned.
Incidentally, how do occasional glasses wearers behave? This is summer and an inordinate number of people suddenly sport astonishingly vulgar examples of designer emblazoned eye protection – sometimes wearing them everywhere but in front of their eyes – and only for a matter of months. Do they clean them or do they develop with instant facility the same resistance to clear vision as their more experienced practioners tolerate.
But today is momentous: I have filled out the form on line for the claiming of my pension. It is wonderfully liberating to think that in a few months time I will be entitled to spend some of the vast sums that I have been paying into the funds of the state for the last thirty years!
There is a strange sense of fin de siècle in the staffrooms at the moment. Some work is being done which has to be completed before the end of the term on Wednesday but there is also a sense of un-direction as people get on with what they think is important. After the fractured week that we have had, it was a real effort to come into work today!
I actually mitched off early today as I had to pay my taxes. Everyone else I know has a tax rebate at the end of the financial year, but not me, I had to pay. And of course banks are not open at reasonable hours and so I had to slope off and I got to the bank with literally a couple of minutes to spare before they closed.
I am now a full paid up member of Catalan society with the tax office recognizing me and my address and taking my money. I have arrived!
Courses for next year are being decided and I have been given the opportunity to teach Modern Art – officially, rather than sneaking it into the curriculum on the understanding that English encompasses everything! This will be a course which will have to be taught three times during the year as the groups change at the end of each term. At two hours a week I can work out exactly how much time can be spent on each art work or each movement.
What larks!
It is true that sometimes I have been shocked at the range and extent of detritus which has coated some lenses that I have used to aid my sight and once noticed the grime becomes impossible to ignore. But, it is only when some casual reflex action prompts an absent minded wipe that the archaeological layers of past civilizations in dirt on the glass become apparent.
I mention this because I have been swimming. As a purely quotidian hygienic procedure, rather like putting chlorine in the swimming pool, I washed the goggles that I use in Fairy liquid and placed them ready for their next use.
When I entered the pool this afternoon and put the goggles on I was shocked at the clarity of the water in the pool and the fact that trees have leaves on every branch. As the lenses are tinted a sinister yellow I had assumed that the murky world of the pool was a function of the colour of the lenses. It was like being in a Wilfred Owen poem during a gas attack. And then, with a little detergent a whole new world is revealed!
Like every glasses wearer that I know I have now decided to clean my glasses regularly. And like every glasses wearer I know I will not do it. Some lessons are never learned.
Incidentally, how do occasional glasses wearers behave? This is summer and an inordinate number of people suddenly sport astonishingly vulgar examples of designer emblazoned eye protection – sometimes wearing them everywhere but in front of their eyes – and only for a matter of months. Do they clean them or do they develop with instant facility the same resistance to clear vision as their more experienced practioners tolerate.
But today is momentous: I have filled out the form on line for the claiming of my pension. It is wonderfully liberating to think that in a few months time I will be entitled to spend some of the vast sums that I have been paying into the funds of the state for the last thirty years!
There is a strange sense of fin de siècle in the staffrooms at the moment. Some work is being done which has to be completed before the end of the term on Wednesday but there is also a sense of un-direction as people get on with what they think is important. After the fractured week that we have had, it was a real effort to come into work today!
I actually mitched off early today as I had to pay my taxes. Everyone else I know has a tax rebate at the end of the financial year, but not me, I had to pay. And of course banks are not open at reasonable hours and so I had to slope off and I got to the bank with literally a couple of minutes to spare before they closed.
I am now a full paid up member of Catalan society with the tax office recognizing me and my address and taking my money. I have arrived!
Courses for next year are being decided and I have been given the opportunity to teach Modern Art – officially, rather than sneaking it into the curriculum on the understanding that English encompasses everything! This will be a course which will have to be taught three times during the year as the groups change at the end of each term. At two hours a week I can work out exactly how much time can be spent on each art work or each movement.
What larks!
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