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Texas Agriculture Archive

April 4, 2003

For the past several months or so, I have had a lot of difficulty keeping up with my eyeglasses. I'm constantly putting them on and pulling them off, depending on whether the project requires close or not-so-close scrutiny. The problem is, when I pull them off and wander away, I can't see to find them. Just like the other night...

"Mel, have you seen my glasses?" I called to my husband from the kitchen, as I surveyed every surface looking for my elusive lenses.

"Don't tell me you done gone an' lost 'em agin'," my husband replied, in an exasperated tone.

"Okay, I won't tell you, but you don't see them anywhere in there, do you?"

I heard my husband rumple his newspaper. "Fraid not. Thur ain't no excuse for you losin' yore glasses ever' tahm you turn aroun'. I bought you a coupla 'em fancy woven strangs you put on the earpieces an' hook aroun' yore neck to avoid this vury problem. How come you don't use 'em?"

"I forget about it until I misplace them, and then I can't find them to put the string on," I replied.

Next, I moved over to the desk to see if I left them by the phone, but no luck there either.

"This is sure getting old," I continued. "It wouldn't be so bad if I could get by with a pair of those cheap drugstore rack reading glasses like you have laying around everywhere. You just pop on any pair and they work, but I'm hamstrung without my prescription lenses."

"The real problem is the fact that yore gittin' so blame forgitful. Maybe you orta read 'is new book thur tawkin' 'bout here in the paper, Female and Forgetful," Mel suggested.

"Like men are NOT forgetful?"

"Shore. But the women doctors that wrote this book say women experience memory loss diff'rnt than men. For example, ya'll walk into a room an' forgit why yore there, or misplace yore car keys, thangs like 'at, whur men forgit names an' dates—'at kinda stuff. Anyhow, says here they call the memory loss `brain fog.' They say millions o' women have it, some as young as 30. Says they've developed a all-natchurl, six-step program 'at can hep slow and sometimes halt memory degradation, and even restore mental agility," Mel read on and on. `Now you can safely and effectively manage yore mind...'"

I wandered into the study and checked out the computer table then downstairs to the sewing machine, to see if I'd left my glasses there. As I climbed the stairs, Mel yelped, "Why here's yore problem! Says `brain fog' can be caused by overexposure to thangs lahk toothpaste. Ever' tahm I turn around yore brushin' yore teeth... Nope, wait. The remedy is to eat a hot tater. Ain't no shortage of them in yore diet, so 'at cain't be it."

I shuffled to the den and plopped down in a chair next to Mel, who was still spouting the article verbatim.

"I'm relieved to know my problem isn't brain fog," I said at last. "I'm certain of it, because I found my long lost glasses."

Mel peeped at me over the top of the spectacles perched on his nose. "Whur were they this tahm? Lemme guess...the bathroom magazine rack."

"Nope. YOU'RE WEARING THEM!"