Tag Archives: memory

While I remember…

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My father-in-law, who reinvented himself as a humorous poet after 25 years in the Royal Navy and many more working as a physio in the NHS, wrote a poem about memory loss and senior moments. I wish I could remember it…

I forgot to mention in my last post that I scored another pointless answer whilst watching “Pointless” on Saturday. The subject was “Wimbledon” and the answer was Minuetto Allegretto.

UK readers of a certain age are now  humming a variety of Wombles songs. The rest of you have no need to worry – you really aren’t missing anything.

I’m not sure whether to be pleased at getting a pointless answer or ashamed of the knowledge that produced it.

I had another one last night with korfball, which I feel is slightly more respectable.

I also forgot to give you the answer to my Doctor Who question from some time ago. The question was along the lines of what have Doctor Who and Wakefield Trinity got in common (apart from the fact that they both used to be better when I was younger).

The answer is contained in the film This Sporting Life, where William Hartnell first came to the attention of Verity Lambert. When she was casting for Doctor Who, she remembered him. Last time I was there his picture was still in one of the film stills on the stairway in the main stand.

The photograph shows one of the cockerels in the yard. Most of the poultry is being rounded up and sent to market next Monday. They cost money to feed and they make the place look untidy. Those, according to the way the place is now being run, are undesirable qualities.

Don’t get me started on this subject.

A good dentist is hard to find…

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I’ve known a few dentists in my time, and in general I have to say that they aren’t the jolliest of men, though many of them seem to have nice cars. If they were put in a police lineout it would be tricky separating a dentist from an undertaker’s mute.

On the other hand, look what they have to work with. After a couple of nasty experiences with dentists I am prone to become a gibbering wreck at the sound of a drill and regard them all as extras from Marathon Man. It can’t be much fun being my dentist.

 

However, with a touch of humour, a pint of anaesthetic and a very competent use of the pliers, he has completely rehabilitated his profession.

Just a short post today. I’ve been taking co-codamol to fight off the pain that I was told would come when the anaesthetic wore off. So far there is no pain. From that I take it that the pills have done their job. The downside is that I can’t actually feel my head.

On a brighter, and less narcotic note, the camera is working again – it was a combination of high battery use and an inaccurate battery condition icon.

Also, I am wearing a red checked shirt and black trousers today, one to hide the blood and the other because I can. The diet has worked so well that, despite the cheese sandwich dilemma, I have lost a full trouser size and am now comfortable in trousers that I last wore in 2014.

There were definitely three good things to tell you, but I forgot the other.

It’s a bit like the first two signs of old age – bad memory and er… I can’t remember the other one.

😉