Written for Sunday Scribblings
I have a little book . Actually that’s not completely true because I’ve lost my little book . I’ve always kept it in the same place, and whenever I think of something that will need attending to in the future I jot down a few words to remind myself. You know the sort of thing; birthdays, doctor’s appointments , funerals and the like . I obviously moved it to an unfamiliar place I can’t for the life of me remember where . In other words I simply can’t remember where I’ve left the book that jogs my memory . Is this an omen? Is it a sign that I’m about to lose what’s left of my dwindling ability to retain such little knowledge as I require to carry me into the autumn of my life?
The other day couldn’t find something that I needed to take with me when I went shopping . What was it? I can’t remember now, but it did worry me at the time . It was last Wednesday I think , or perhaps it was Thursday . I was going to get some , err, things I needed . What were they? Can’t remember , but when I got to the shop I wasn’t even certain it was the right shop . Anyway I bought something or other , and when I went to pay I remembered what I’d forgotten – my money; or was it my credit card?
I recently moved house. Yesterday (or was it the day before?) when I returned home from work I had trouble getting my key to turn in the lock on my front door . I fiddled about for a while then suddenly the door flew open and standing before me was Susan or Sarah or Sonya or whoever it was that moved into my old place . I’d only gone to my previous address!
Did I tell you that I can’t remember where I left my book of reminders? I think it may be an omen.