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A head cold erased my memory
Jan. 31st, 2010 04:40 pmA magazine headline I saw yesterday: A head cold erased my memory. But how would you know if that happened? It could have been anything.
I read something once about houses having descendants, because people tend to set up house like their parents. I was thinking today that this is sometimes true and sometimes not. True, because my cutlery drawer is arranged the way my mother arranges hers, which is the way her mother arranged hers and so on, I suspect, back up the family tree. Knives on the right, the way nature intended it. Also, my toilet paper hangs facing out, the way it always did when I was growing up. Someone at work hangs the roll so it faces the wall, which is clearly wrong. How are you supposed to admire the quilting and the pictures on it if you can't see them?
Where my house differs from its ancestors - and what started me on this train of thought - is in the clocks. My mother puts all her clocks forward, so she is never late. But! - and this is the bit I don't get - she puts them all forward by different, random amounts and then forgets which is which, so her bedroom clock might be fourteen minutes fast and her car clock might be twenty minutes fast and her watch might be about ten minutes fast, and one of them might still be on pre-daylight savings time, or is it the other way around? Because of the confusion this generated when I was a child, all my clocks tell the right time. I might occasionally be late, but I'm never confused about it.
I read something once about houses having descendants, because people tend to set up house like their parents. I was thinking today that this is sometimes true and sometimes not. True, because my cutlery drawer is arranged the way my mother arranges hers, which is the way her mother arranged hers and so on, I suspect, back up the family tree. Knives on the right, the way nature intended it. Also, my toilet paper hangs facing out, the way it always did when I was growing up. Someone at work hangs the roll so it faces the wall, which is clearly wrong. How are you supposed to admire the quilting and the pictures on it if you can't see them?
Where my house differs from its ancestors - and what started me on this train of thought - is in the clocks. My mother puts all her clocks forward, so she is never late. But! - and this is the bit I don't get - she puts them all forward by different, random amounts and then forgets which is which, so her bedroom clock might be fourteen minutes fast and her car clock might be twenty minutes fast and her watch might be about ten minutes fast, and one of them might still be on pre-daylight savings time, or is it the other way around? Because of the confusion this generated when I was a child, all my clocks tell the right time. I might occasionally be late, but I'm never confused about it.