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.