20 December 2011 How
does that song go?
Often associated
with The Grateful Dead’s “Uncle john’s Band,” it pops up more often than I care
to admit. The memory I’ve always relied
upon to win trivia games and to pull arcane from the black holes of long-ago
textbooks and lectures, is beginning to look more like Emmentaler than like densely
packed and deeply structured Cheddar. I
keep hoping to be picked for Jeopardy. I
take all the online tests, monitor the official website, and yet I am forced to
admit that should I be chosen to play I might find myself less able to compete
than previously. Of course, a category
about sports (team athletics), Opera, or theater would likely do me in without
any self-driven assassination. Those
questions all have only one shared answer – “that Russian.”
Of course,
during yesterday’s interview I passed the short-term recall (remember these
four words) portion of the day’s activity.
I also provided spatial-temporal awareness information upon request and
passed the neurological count forward/count backward/ name these forward and
backward.
Today’s Herculanean
labor was to scoop out a 2-foot deep hole to set the new mailbox post. Using a short shovel and a VietNam era
E-tool, I made the necessary hole in the former rock-filled creek bed that is
our land. I’m still about 4 inches to
shallow but it may be easier to remove those 4 inches from the new post than to
deepen the hole any further. Both
shoulders are protesting the activity already.
In passing,
Chag Chanukah Sameach!
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