Remembering and Forgetting.

It's great to have a good memory; it must be satisfying to say, right off the jump, “Certainly, darling, of course I remembered to buy the fish”-and get away with it. It must be great to remember where you put your other sock and where you left the hammer after you repaired the hen house last Saturday week.

There is nothing like the gift of memory-unless it's the gift of forget-fulness. Sometimes I think a perfect memory is a perfect pest. It keeps you constantly on the up-and-coming trying to catch up with the things you remember to remember. On the other hand, when you forget, and then completely forget you've forgotten, you save yourself wads of worry.

Of course there are pettifogging purists who strive to remind you that you've forgotten to remember; but a proficient forgetter has no difficulty in remembering to forget. There will be repercussings and “mournings after” but, with a no-parking notice on your brain, and a one-way track from ear to ear, memory need hold no horror. Your life will be as varied as an ostrich's breakfast; you will flit from job to job with the celerity of a fly in a jam factory. You will spend more time on the mat than a professional clutch merchant and be on the rocks as constantly as a barnacle; but you will enjoy the perfect peace of the mangel-wurzel without the danger of being bitten by a cow.