Elsie's Notes from New England - THEMission edition

Yesterday I reached for my purse, hanging on its peg in the kitchen.  I was looking for my "list book."  I make lists.  All the time.  It's the only way I can keep track of the things I need to do, the things I need to buy, the things I want to write about, the things I want to remember.  The official measure of a nanosecond is the length of time between when I think of something I need to write down and when that thought vanishes from my brain.  Sometimes, even having a list is not enough to save me from my own distractedness.  If I don't write it down this instant, it's often gone for good. So I reached for my purse as it hung there and began to rummage through it, hunting for the little spiral book I'm currently using until I've filled every blue-lined page with grocery items and projects and snippets of inspiration.  It's a kind of big purse, so I ended up sticking my face inside just a little bit to find the book where it lay in the very bottom-

To Rite Aid, to Rite Aid To buy some new specs I left all my readers at home. What the heck? How many of these have I bought? And to spare! Every memory slip Means I've got a new pair! I wear them on leashes Slung over my head. I should give up And implant them instead! Yes, I've thought about contacts But just can't decide If up close is more crucial, Or seeing outside When I was a wee lass And spectacle free I wondered and puzzled On how it would be For things to look fuzzy Or shadowy, blurred It seemed so peculiar to me, And absurd Because everything then Was so vividly clear And I couldn't see there How it looked to be here. Would that vision and wisdom Were somehow connected To sharpen together As age interjected Oh, the follies and foibles I could've avoided If sight and acumen Could be co-exploited Instead, my reality Grows ever grimmer For wisdom glows brighter As vision wanes dimmer And now as I pay for them