as i am not in the form-league but in the function-team [it took too long…] small stuff which breaks has to be fixed for function purposes and not cosmetic appearance; with that said i had to fix the frame of my glasses which had again broken off at the hinge, the 1st fix with a cut piece of cable tie and superglue did not stand up so i resolved in the following manner:
i made a little frame around the hinge area with sello tape, filled it with some diatomaceous earth [think of it as silica powder - cigarette or other ash will also do] and poured in a few drops of super glue [Cyanoacrylate] and mixed/stirred it with a toothpick. a couple of seconds later the paste was hard as stone and i peeled of the tape - fixed!
thought i share this as even some flat surfaces glued with super-glue tend to come apart.
at my age the primary function for my glasses are for me to see, not to impress anyone.
cya! 
Bicarbonate of soda works very well too.
Anything alkaline will make superglue set, while anything acidic will prevent it from setting.
tx @Stanley , if i had young kids i would compel them to become active members of forums like this in order to keep the revs of their common sense high - the one mans directive to clean up or drive on the left hand of the highway has become the sloth’s critique and dictatorial and non-pc brutish behaviour 
- the lie has become the alternative truth 
Here is an example of something I repaired with Q-bond. That little ridge that my index finger is on fits into the corresponding groove in the handle. That broke off. And that plug is over R1000, and replacing the whole cable would be more than 7k. Repairing was the cost of the glue and some time.
Edit: And if you wonder what is going on in the background on that random bit of paper, I was explaining interest on loans to my son, for school. Interest takes the amount up, but then you pay some of it off, and then you get a downwards trending square wave like that.
great! that and other vital stuff should be integral to the curricula of EVERY kid - like explaining the common narrative that you have to spend money to save it… there are exceptions to this rule, but discernment!
Thanks!
It amazes me how spectacle frames that you own never have spares for that model!
I bought a reputable brand once from an optometrist and they were obsolete when I bought them!
Also is anyone a fan of glass lenses (like me)?
Oh, not only that. Tiles. You can never find that same tile again. I mean, I always buy a box or two extra for repairs, but seriously… I’ve had one case where a bad tile job needed things to be redone, which ate into the two extra boxes I bought… and then when I went back to CTM as in literally a week later… that tile was no longer in stock and basically could not be found anywhere. I swear they deliberately stop making a tile within weeks for the sole purpose of forcing you to retile the entire room every time even one tile chips.
Not only that. A year later I went back, with the tile in hand, hoping for a miracle, and I actually got it. The exact same tile was there… under a completely different name. The salesperson, a very very friendly Xhosa lady, looked at the tile and said… come with me, I think we have it.
WHYYY!??
I think the answer might be easier than you think.
Most likely you will find the factory would have one or two lines that can make tiles. And that they would make batches of them at a time. With all the shapes, sizes and colours it would take a year before they get back to that one that you were looking for. And the range or colour that did not do well will not be made next year, but they will swop it for another colour/size.
And if it’s imported it would also depend on when the ship can land at the harbour and if someone is there to work the crane that day/week/month ? 
Oh come on, stop being all logical and stuff. I’m trying to be outraged here!
indeed, thats the pits - but welcome to the vanity industry** - i went for the cheapest frames which can hold the largest lenses as i figured that would give me optimal field of vision - they were cheap for no-one wants to look like a clown, but as soon as seeing starts to trump looks, bingo.
by some quirk of fate i ended up with three identical frames, so all i get are new lenses; for that the medical aid coughs up [as well as a meager sum for those black ‘onderwyser’ frames]
** speaking of which, a hobby of mine was sharpening hairdressing scissors; now there you get some crazy characters - once a high pitched highly excited ladida character called me accusing me of sharpening [fill in his/her] scissors too much as [fill in he/she] snipped off a clients ear lobe 
- obviously i am the guilty party 
then go mattress shopping but to see where you can get the best price, try to find the same “model” of mattress at a different name outlet that stocks the exact same brand.
art historians maybe need to take another look at Van Gogh to see if they indeed managed to correctly “bring die kloutjie by die oor”.
As a toddler (many meters of hair ago), I once had the misfortune of Grandma deciding to take me to her preferred hair salon for a haircut. Me sitting amongst all the tannies getting their purple rinses and perms, the lady cutting my hair ended up taking a chunk out of the skin in my neck - probably distracted by the gossiping under hooded hairdryers (although Grandma’s hypothesis was that I was obviously not sitting still). The hairdresser and Grandma were mortified but very relieved that no stitches were required.
This was close to traumatic for me because the usual barber, Oom Bennie, never attempted to maim me in pursuit of a haircut. The experience when going for a haircut with Oom Bennie never had a surprise in store.
Hop on the chair, or when still too small, sitting on a plank placed over the arm rests, and request “skwer kat asseblief Oom”1. Getting the barber’s cloak put around me and wondering if this is how Dominee feels on a Sunday morning? The rhythmic lifting of hair with comb and snip of the scissors almost as hypnotising as the sound of train wheels on a track but at times seemingly at a speed that no train can match. Being woken from the near slumber when Oom Bennie would repose my head like he was bending a pipe cleaner (this might also be why he never took a pound of flesh from me!). After the scissors, getting the square nicely lined up with the electric clipper and finishing with a straight razor (first, flick flack flick flack on the stropping belt). Oom Bennie holding a hand mirror, angled in such a way that I can see the back of my head in the huge mirror in front of me, to inspect the work that he had done. Me not knowing what I was supposed to look for, so I always just had a “dankie Oom” ready. Then getting the trimmed hair wiped away with a big soft brush (very different from the paint brushes we used to paint the pots that stood on the slasto paving in the back yard) before adding a dusting of talcum powder over the neck.
This routine was always the same - unfortunately, also including the absolute torture of spending the rest of the day with prickly bits of hair stuck in the shirt around my neck - double agony if it was a shirt with a collar! Maybe that is why, judging by the volume and tone of his voice, Dominee seemed a bit angry some Sundays – he still had prickly hair in his robe!
*1 = a “square cut” please
now theres a memory… and somehow the stuff never removed the prickly hair completely - but that sensation only started a while after leaving ‘oom bennie’, and you did not argue with a man with a cutthroat
I remember one of those. I forgot his last name, but his name was “Abel”. He had a normal voice, for normal conversation, but then he would ascend the pulpit and crank the volume up…
Man… there was no way of sleeping in church with this particular minister! Luckily, he was just visiting, he was not a regular. I don’t know if the old clay stones and whitewashed walls of the small church would have lasted long. The roof was already a constant maintenance issue.
Then he came down, switched back to his regular voice, and came for lunch. Because on the farm, you invite the visiting dominee for lunch… who knows when there will be another service!
We used to have two back-to-back services, because the dominee didn’t come often, and when he did, it had to be done properly. The evening service had to be done as well… before lunch, because dominee had to be back in the city for the evening service that side!
I wish I could find a picture of the old church. Good memories of getting in trouble for not being quiet enough, and competing with the older kids to ring the old bell in the steel tower outside… except when there were red wasps (rooibye!) in the tower… then you would just call everyone inside… Oom, tannie, die diens gaan nou begin.
The highlight, of course, was the cake between the two services! That was the sole reason us kids were there at all!
Edit: This is the only picture I could findof the old church, with the green roof, courtesy of Google maps. It is at -22.9770, 18.2644, of anyone cares.
nina, mooi man, been quiet some time i last had to work on a grid reference, in the old days my nearest civilization was here -17.49484021707405, 15.6332802870714 for some time, booze was R1,20 a bottle gin… eish
I found a picture! Well, I had to ask for it. It’s not an easy one to just find on the internet.
As I grew up, running along the side of the building became too dangerous. If a window was open, you’d bump your head… and end up in a whimpering heap below. Sometimes an adult would come to look if you were okay…
This was the bell we competed for…
And this is where the thunder and ligthning came raining down on that day…
Anyway, thanks @Village_Idiot for sending me down that path of reminiscence!
interesting, the afrikaans ‘LUISTER’, that is far more comprehensive that ‘HOOR’ - like ‘listen’ is to ‘hear’ i suppose, and naturally the only effective LUISTER is to obey - i’m not a linguist but my buttocks more than once left an indelible imprint of that truth during my school days 
ohyes, for more on the little church at nina see here - interesting reading indeed, especially this sentence Die preekstoel kom oorspronklik vanuit die N G Kerk Groote kerk Kaapstad
thanks for going through the effort for the pics as well. 
now add “verstaan” into the mix, then “hoor” vs “luister” gets another dimension added.
Now THAT I didn’t know (but should have). How interesting, this little church in the middle of nowhere 
(This has been quite the diversion of topic, but I did check and noticed it is in the weeds).
There is also 'n baptismal stand (doopfont) in a similar style, but not pictured here. I was not baptised in this church, but both my sisters were. One of my sisters also got married in this church.
My word … from superglue to “preekstoele” … “luister” julle na julself?, want “hoor” wil julle duidelik nie. 
(Context: Thread derailment.)