A shark and memory

That is a misleading post title; I should have typed my shark vacuum and my memory, but what is done is done. Oh, I know there is a delete key and it would me so easy, but today is : Return to Your Past Day and so I doing it like we did waaaay back then.

For those who did not live in those Stone Ages, I will explain:

You did not have a delete key; you typed it, there it stayed. You could use really thin onion skin paper and with an eraser make the paper even thinner; or, if you couldn’t get away with that, you could use White-Out, which was so very obvious.

To deal with these frequent situations, you had to write your way out of your predicament, finding someway to get to the period of the sentence  in a grammatically acceptable process. Often this was not easy. And it definitely was a pain in the neck.

By the way, I made up the today is Return to Your Past Day, although I suspect you knew that.

Getting back to what I started to relate in the first place, I have a Shark vacuum, which is bagless and lets you see the dirt you are sucking up. This can be upsetting, for you may realize that  you are a very dirty person. On the other hand, you feel like you are accomplishing something. On top of it all, the vacuum comes apart in several washable pieces, including the hose and that comes in handy when you inadvertently suck up something noxious.

Yesterday, I vacuumed some areas and then decided I’d wash the filter and let it dry overnight so I could really do a whiz-bang job today. However, and I have no idea how this could have happened, since I have a not-bad memory, I forgot to wash it out. I got up this morning and thought: Oh, no, I really can’t start out the day by vacuuming . . . Gosh Darn! I could have been psychically crushed, but I am resilient and opted to sit down, eat a foldover (peanut butter sandwich) and look at the Internet news.

One thought on “A shark and memory”

  1. Yesterday we flew back from visiting my father-in-law in New Mexico. Just a short weekend visit. The pilot came on before we left and told us all the “days” that it was. The only one that sticks in my mind was it was “Diary Day” and he told us to all go home and write in our diaries.

    I think they call them blogs now.

Comments are closed.