We experience thousands, nay millions of events over a lifetime. We can only recall a fraction. though I am convinced all our 'happenings' in life are ever present in the brain. The keeping of a diary therefore becomes useful. Unimportant to the world, but evidence that we once existed. An event from October 1985, completely forgotten, might amuse.
October 7th 1985
We have, for several days been mystified by the appearance on the front windowsill and surrounding areas only, of small 'animal' droppings. Even Richard, more expert than the Stevens family is puzzled. A mouse, or mice is the obvious suspect, though Richard is unsure. A cockroach is possible, though unlikely. Richard suggests the presence of a bat is possible but again unlikely. Sarah in particular warms to this possibility.
For a second and third night the droppings have appeared. The strange thing is that the 'creature' ignores the kitchen area where the likelihood of food would be most forthcoming. I tentatively search behind curtains, amongst books. Skirting boards are minutely examined. Close to the window is a radiator. A view behind the radiator is difficult. What view is afforded suggests murk and mystery. Sarah, after tentative, furtive forays with a short stick behind the radiator is adamant there is a moving, living being resident there! The search becomes amusingly hysterical, with Sarah shrieking, Paulette dancing agitatedly on a chair whilst I poke apprehensively behind the radiator with a long stick. My stick encounters a soft dark 'body'. Sarah becomes even more hysterical. I ease the stick beneath the offending object and carefully, even more apprehensively ease it upwards. It suddenly appears dark and foreboding. 'It' is apparently a pair of child's knickers, left to air at some unknown date and slipping unseen behind the radiator, waiting for discovery. We, Sarah, Paulette and myself collapse, Sarah in particular borders on the insane. Our animal, beast, alien, is, for the time being, still a mystery.
Are the Stevens clan alone in apparently being mystified by all that life throws at us. Surely not!
And in view of recent blogs on losing it, the entry for the day after I find interesting.
Oct 8th 1985
I rush into Derby town centre during my dinner hour to renew my car insurance, but with a different company. Unfortunately I have omitted to fill in the relevant form, fail to take one relevant document and cannot relate either my car registration number or Paulettes age or date of birth! I make no comment!
'So what's new, pussy cat.'