A few of you expressed real concern about my sightless state. Thank you. A couple of you laughed at me. Well, sure. St Anthony (patron saint of lost things and missing persons. That's him there, preaching to the fishes) was invoked more than once. And why not -- I'll take all the help I can get.
I found the glasses late last week (thanks, St A) wedged between the two rows of books in my double-stacked bedside bookcase. How they got there I do not know, since I place my glasses on the top of the bookcase when I take them off. Gremlins, earthquakes, and somnambulism are possible but improbable answers. The impossible (I'm sure I didn't do this) but probable answer is that I put my glasses on top of a book in the middle shelf instead of their usual spot. After all, I was tired.
I am not Catholic, but I rather like the idea of saints interceding for me, beavering away up there on my behalf. As I said, I need all the help I can get. And saints have, or had, human qualities, so I don't mind asking them for stuff. It's like borrowing from your big brother or sister. God is like your insurance company. You don't waste God on a dented fender. Save God for the total write-off, and hope your rates don't go up too much.
Which is stupid, I know. If you are going to believe in a benevolent and omniscient deity, why not let the deity do His or Her stuff. I understand that. But there are large and small jobs around the world, and my sense of scale gets thrown off, thinking that my glasses matter as much as famine or disease or global warming.
Next on my list of things to question about myself is the double-stacked bookcase. Not only is it inconvenient, it also creates a hole where small objects can disappear for days. I could get rid of the second row of books, I suppose, except that I don't like to throw books out, and I have no place to put them. I wonder which saint I can ask for a new bookshelf?