Dad has a new pair of glasses.
I admit that that's a fairly mundane thing to visit happiness upon me, but it signifies the end of something of a saga.
He should have had an eye test last spring but as he was awaiting a cataract operation there was no point in doing it.
He eventually had his op in September but needed to wait a minimum of six weeks before having a test.
Because of his age and poor mobility the optician came to the house to conduct the test as they have done on several occasions before.
A couple of weeks later the new glasses were delivered but made matters worse so he was no further forward.
I chased up the optician and after some to-ing and fro-ing it was agreed another pair of specs would be provided based on the existing prescription with some alteration to their physical construction.
Eventually they turned up but were just as bad as the first pair. Back to square one.
We were told to expect a re-test but after a lengthy silence I called the optician and a re-test was duly carried out.
Two days ago a third pair of specs was delivered and, mirabile dictu, were perfect. I do like a happy ending.
It's easy to grab the over used word 'stress' but I live in a constant state of 'what's next?' and I do not handle this tension well.
Anyway, let's end on another happy note.
The chap who delivered the glasses has an unusual surname which attracted Dad's attention.
It turned out that he had been at primary school with the man's father which must have been about eighty-five years ago! (Dad is ninety-four).
Off to do the lunch now. Smoked Haddock since you ask.
