Mind Like a Sieve and I Don't Mean a Pensieve
I have to start doing more crossword puzzles or something.
There are those, and I do not care for most of them, who say that forgetfulness is just a part of aging blah blah blah and one must make ones peace with it blah blah blah Ican'thearyou.
I'm not old. I'm older than I was but I am hardly ready for the home. And I firmly believe that once you start living in that "I'm old" place in your head that's when you begin to be old. In fact, I have friends who are younger than me who do that "getting older" thing and they are beginning to bore me. So take it as writ, I'm not getting older, I'm ripening like a fine Bordeaux; and be warned: don't ever call me an old lady. (Unless it's a Grateful Dead theme party and I'm, like, your old lady). In fact, when I'm in my 80s or 90s or 00s (could happen) do not call me an old lady. I'll smack you with my cane.
All that said, I find that things are slipping out of the back of my head lately. I've always been a bit like that anyway but,for example, it took me about 15 minutes last night to recall Phil Hartman's name. I could see his face, hear his voice, list his acting credits and I couldn't think of his name. It was cold comfort that neither could The Spouse. (It did eventually occur to us via a rather amusing tag team effort and IMdb was not involved so that was a triumph).
More to the point, I know there was something I wanted to blog about today and I'll be dipped if I can think what it is. I have got to start writing this stuff down and then all I'll have to do is remember where I left the note.
The Child is baking scones. After I eat one I'm going to go grocery shopping, laying in easily prepared supplies against the next few days when I have no intention of doing anything but reading Harry Potter.
The Child and I had an intensive discussion yesterday about what we think is going to happen. I have some very strong theories, which I'll not posit here but it's to do with jealousy, betrayal, redemption and Harry being protected yet again by the pure sacrifice of someone dear to him. Further, I don't think any of the girls are going to die but that doesn't mean they're going to have a swell time. And I still don't think Dumbledore is really dead nor do I believe that Snape is really a bad guy. (The Child thinks that's totally nuts).
I really can't wait to get my hands on that book. I'm so serious.
The scones are done. Mercy. I don't like cold scones but when they are like this, still hot from the oven, butter melting and grape jelly oozing. Superfantastic.
I'll be back when I'm done with Harry. Should be by Monday, as per usual. Have a great weekend.
There are those, and I do not care for most of them, who say that forgetfulness is just a part of aging blah blah blah and one must make ones peace with it blah blah blah Ican'thearyou.
I'm not old. I'm older than I was but I am hardly ready for the home. And I firmly believe that once you start living in that "I'm old" place in your head that's when you begin to be old. In fact, I have friends who are younger than me who do that "getting older" thing and they are beginning to bore me. So take it as writ, I'm not getting older, I'm ripening like a fine Bordeaux; and be warned: don't ever call me an old lady. (Unless it's a Grateful Dead theme party and I'm, like, your old lady). In fact, when I'm in my 80s or 90s or 00s (could happen) do not call me an old lady. I'll smack you with my cane.
All that said, I find that things are slipping out of the back of my head lately. I've always been a bit like that anyway but,for example, it took me about 15 minutes last night to recall Phil Hartman's name. I could see his face, hear his voice, list his acting credits and I couldn't think of his name. It was cold comfort that neither could The Spouse. (It did eventually occur to us via a rather amusing tag team effort and IMdb was not involved so that was a triumph).
More to the point, I know there was something I wanted to blog about today and I'll be dipped if I can think what it is. I have got to start writing this stuff down and then all I'll have to do is remember where I left the note.
The Child is baking scones. After I eat one I'm going to go grocery shopping, laying in easily prepared supplies against the next few days when I have no intention of doing anything but reading Harry Potter.
The Child and I had an intensive discussion yesterday about what we think is going to happen. I have some very strong theories, which I'll not posit here but it's to do with jealousy, betrayal, redemption and Harry being protected yet again by the pure sacrifice of someone dear to him. Further, I don't think any of the girls are going to die but that doesn't mean they're going to have a swell time. And I still don't think Dumbledore is really dead nor do I believe that Snape is really a bad guy. (The Child thinks that's totally nuts).
I really can't wait to get my hands on that book. I'm so serious.
The scones are done. Mercy. I don't like cold scones but when they are like this, still hot from the oven, butter melting and grape jelly oozing. Superfantastic.
I'll be back when I'm done with Harry. Should be by Monday, as per usual. Have a great weekend.
Labels: Harry Potter, scones
cobbled together by Moi at 10:16 AM
15 Comments:
I've been forgetting things all my life.It is just normal for people who do too much and have too much on their minds. It only means you are an interesting person.and don't call me old either.
We will soon know what happens to HP!
I'll send the poster...email your address to me. I think I may have the wrong email address for you.
Alrighty, Mom! I'm so going with that "interesting person, too many important and fabulous things on my mind" theory. Love. That.
Email sent, Rosie. And thanks. The Child will be well pleased.
Yum Scones!...and a good read, sounds like your weekend is off to a good start!
Way to spoil the last 2 Potter books for me.
Kidding.
My oldest thinks Snape is HOT. She is a rather twisted soul, but I do have to give her some credit on that one.
She recently had the nerve to try and fight me for the rights to Johnny Depp, if he ever shows up at the door. Now that she's all of 19, I guess she thinks she can just decide that. Please. I informed her that he is old enough to be her father. Her response, a scornful, "And? It's Johnny, hello."
Happy reading to you both.
When I forget a name, I go through the alphabet until the first letter pops into my head. Or I just wander about singing the ABC song for hours and hours and hours...
enjoy the book! And the whole dern weekend for that matter!
Wish you could have some with us, Suz...they're my-t-fine.
Right, JP. 'Cuz I know what a maniac you are for those books. JK Who?
Ah, geez, Cowbell. It's bad enough that she can now wear my shoes, I have to start worrying about having crushes on the same guys?
Thanks, Hat. And you enjoy your little songs!
You're taking a weekend from blogging to read??
Like,..a book?
You young folks sure are a strange lot.
Why,in my day we used to..hey,..where's my beer?
I am hoping Harry doesn't die, tho' I have doubts. If you were J.K. Rowling, and you REALLY wanted this to be your last Harry Potter book, it would be tempting, no?
I'm with you that Snape is not a bad guy -- it's been such a wonderful lesson throughout the series that just because you don't like someone (Ssssseverus Sssssnape) doesn't mean that he is your enemy.
I think Ron and Hermione will couple up. Voldemort will die. Other than that, I'm prediction-free.
(swigs some of Sling's beer and chuckles to herself, "Golly, that "Accio beer" spell really worked!"
Red, I have sent my predictions to you by owl. Because I know you care. But she won't kill off Harry.
Do you know about CRAFT moments? Can't Remember A () Thing?
N.
I have a record feture on my phone that works wonders!
Illuminate me, Breadbox.
Mouse, yeah, I actually tried that once and then I forgot where I left my phone.
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