I ordered these today–I'm afraid my dad doesn't get why I bought new frames instead of just having the lenses replaced on my old ones, because I am planning to have the lenses changed on my old frames, which I still like, but there's a lot of things about being a girl he doesn't understand (the number of shoes and handbags any girl needs, for example). The black-framed glasses on the right are my new Bad glasses–there's no telling what I might say when I wear them. The round mid-century styles are kind of a throwback to what I wore in the late 80s, early 90s, but I don't know what that means. Shoulderpads next, I expect.
No story behind these pictures, I just like them:
I've been trying to walk for 30 minutes every day, when I can do it in the daylight since my neighborhood has narrow streets and no streetlights, so I've been meeting the neighbor cats. This one sounded like he had guitar strings for vocal chords:
Isn't this a pretty baby? One of the neighbors told me her name was something like Snuggles and that she was twelve years old or something like that.
I met up with three neighbor ladies on my last walk, Roberta, Pat, and Jan. Roberta says I'm one of the few people to have been inside her house–she very kindly let me in to get a phone book so I could call someone to come get Sukey the day she went up a tree, but it was a cat-lady house, cluttered and messy. Pat goes to my church. She's dyslexic, so instead of singing the hymns, she whistles along with the music, quite skillfully, and sometimes adds handbell gestures. Jan is a retired librarian, the softest-spoken, most ladylike person you could ever meet, and she researches carnival freaks, especially a woman from Georgia born with a parasitic twin.