I hated my glasses

I was born with a lazy eye and had to have an operation to tighten the muscle.  It also meant that I had to wear glasses when I was very little.  I remember that they were gold-rimmed and hooked behind my ears.  I hated them with a passion.  I was forever losing them but somehow they would always be found.  (I relate this story not from direct memory as I do not have an independent recollection of these events).  One day my glasses had gone missing again and despite a determined search of 16 Brooklands Crescent could not be located.  One day our gardener noticed something glinting at the very top of the avocado tree in the back garden.  He climbed up it and found my gold-rimmed glasses hanging from one of the top most branches.  I was small.  I was determined.  I was not brave enough to permanently dispose of them.  I have no doubt in my mind that I climbed that tree and hid them there.

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The beginning

Memories – as and when I remember them.  No particular order.  Erratic categorisation.  There may be some pictures when I can figure out how to use the picture thingy.  I have also recently unearthed three senior school diaries and some poetry I wrote as an angtsy undergrad.

I have set myself some writing goals but am not going to share them.  The number of blogs I have seen with the a chirpy start and then nothing for months is just too depressing.

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