Amazing, grace*

Isn’t it odd, the way that memory works, or sometimes doesn’t work?  My contact lens is supposed to be changed monthly – that is, I take it out every night and put it in again in the morning, but it’s meant to be thrown away and replaced once a month.  I’m not sure why this arbitrary timespan was chosen, probably because it’s easy to remember but, over the years, this has stretched somewhat as, once in a while, an accident can befall a nearly-new one and it can become a bit expensive.

I had a new pack of six lenses which I’d carefully put in the work box.  I was sure of it. I also had one other, having ordered a new box when I first used the last-but-one.  All this tedious detail is just to explain why it happened quite some time ago and why I had time to doubt my memory.

When I went off to Scotland a couple of months ago, I wanted to take a new lens.  I went confidently to the work box, which is a mahogany Victorian one, with a lift-up lid and two false and one real drawer opening in the front.  I keep important papers, such as birth certificates in it, and needles and thread in the drawer, and my printer is on top of it.  So, I lifted the lid and discovered that the blue and white box of my memory was actually a box that held an elasticated knee bandage that I tried using as a support when my leg hurt a lot – it didn’t help, so I soon stopped.  So, I searched other places, to no avail, and have done so a few times since – I knew it would be in here or the dining room and that it was certainly not upstairs, but I just couldn’t find the box.

Today, I suddenly thought that perhaps it was in the work box after all, underneath the other knee-bandage box.  So I shifted the printer, lifted the lid, searched, didn’t find it – and remembered that it was in the drawer instead.  But I couldn’t remember until then, I needed a trigger.  It’s like having to go back to where you had a thought to be able to remember what that thought was.

Anyway, now I can wear a new lens tomorrow.  I think it’s high time, after three months.  Doesn’t seem to have done any harm though.

Anyway, I have pictures for you, of Al’s honey.  As you see, he has the pictures marked – he found that people were pinching his photos for beekeeping information websites, which was a bit naughty.  He thought he’d got them so they couldn’t be taken, until I did.  Heh.  So the reason for the ‘watermark’.

He took the photos for the labels – you have to be careful when putting up flower photos not to make them too clearly identifiable, because if there’s a clear picture of lavender, for example, the honey must be mostly lavender honey.  However, we rather like the variation of labels – if he ordered them, the minimum quantity is several years-worth at the rate he’s likely to produce it, so he doesn’t want to be stuck with one sort.

*A vague thought of the line about once being lost and now I’m found.  I know.  A bit rubbish.

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