RECENT events led me to realise that I really can’t do very much these days without my reading glasses, and I still seem to lose them everywhere I go.

The other day I returned home from work and unpacked my shopping only to discover that I had bought a size 18 jumper instead of a size 12.

Aaaaargh … All because I had no reading glasses.

Without even lifting the jumper up next to my body to measure it, because I was convinced it said a size 12, I put it in the basket.

However, I wasn’t entirely surprised when I tried it on and it swamped me.

“Bloody glasses,” I muttered to myself.

And only this morning on my way to work I phoned the takeaway next to my office to pre-order my breakfast.

“Hi, it’s Janice.”

“Could you put on a roll and sausage for me please?” I ordered.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Sorry, a what?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded mystified.

“A roll and sausage,” I reiterated. “And remember no sauce.”

“Janice.” Said the familiar voice.

“This is Elaine,” she chuckled.”

"I think you’ve dialled the wrong number, and as much as I like you, I’m not heading into Glasgow with a roll and sausage.”

And sure enough, without my specs I had dialled my friend Elaine instead of the take away.

After apologising, I hung up and muttered: “Bloody glasses.”

To let you understand, I do try to keep a pair in the car, beside the microwave, on my bedside table, a few pairs in my office drawer and endless pairs in pockets and handbags.

And the reason being is that now most daily tasks are complete guess work without them.

“It’s the same with contact lenses,” my friend Mae agreed.

“I’m blind as a bat without them.”

She went on to explain.

“Last week I went to the opticians for a check-up and the optician suggested new slightly stronger lenses.”

“I thought they were fine until I got up to leave,” Mae continued.

“But on the way out, I walked into a cupboard instead of out the front door.”

I laughed and thought how Mae was blind as a bat without her lenses and blind as a bat with them.

“But the optician was very matter of fact and guided me out to the pavement,” she said.

“Bloody contact lenses,” muttered Mae.

I thought that perhaps it wasn’t really a very good advert for an opticians when a customer has to be guided out of the shop.

“You know Janice, there is now a mobile App you can get which will help you find your lost glasses,” advised my good pal.

“All you have to do is stick a special inch long clip on to your glasses and it connects via Bluetooth to you mobile phone, and when activated, the clip beeps to help you find your glasses.

“Simple, maybe that’s what you need Janice.”

I was now intrigued.

“Sounds brilliant Mae,” I was hesitant.

“But what happens if you can’t find your mobile phone.”

Talking of phones, on a recent visit to my mum and dad, I noticed that they still had the same old phone book they had for as long as I can remember and in the book were phone numbers of all their friends and contacts.

But given that they are in their 80s, the list of relevant names left in the book was getting smaller and smaller.

“Why don’t I take the book away with me and I’ll type up a sheet of phone numbers in large print,” I suggested.

“I could laminate it and you keep a copy next to your phone.”

“Great idea,” they both agreed.

“We haven’t got that many numbers left so it should take you too long.”

And I took that to mean that most of the people named in the book were now deceased.

But on going through the phone book I couldn’t help but laugh as my dad had put a score through some of the names and a note for my guidance which read.

JB. Dead.

S and D D. Dead.

M G. Dead.

By J. Nearly dead.

It made for sad reading but I laughed out loud when I can to the last name on the list.

C W. Should be dead.