where was I?

"THE world is too much with us; late and soon,           Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:           Little we see in Nature that is ours;           We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!"  I must admit I had to look up Wordsworth to finish those lines but I often say, as I'm sure you do, too, "the world is too much with us".  Boy, did I  lay waste my powers the past few days!  It wasn't a weekend of debauchery, just too many hours awake and too many hours doing other things than I usually do, all useful, quite entertaining, fairly productive, even necessary, but too many hours and not even sleeping, which I tried to do yesterday to get caught up. Caught up with what? With you, with me, with the world which had slipped out of my grasp even while it was too much with me. It started Friday when I took my electronic family - Big Mac, LIttle Mac and Minnie - for a major check-up, by appointment, but it was really for me.  I was the one who needed the check-up, the clean-out, the examinationinspectionevaluationanalysissurveyprobetest and appraisal and it took some time. I am so grateful to the "physician" who served us, not only for her awesome expertise but also for her patience, which was even more awesome.  My son keeps telling me I'm a computer illiterate.  He's right, of course; he always is. But I do keep trying to learn. It's a huge learning curve for me but I keep trying. You've probably seen those awesome lists of things that have entered our everyday lives that didn't exist even ten years ago.  Try eighty. I'm so old that Dick Tracy comics were on my daily reading menu.  He had a wrist watch with a two-way radio service accompanied by a  picture (Skype to you, I guess), and the drawing had a little arrow with a balloon telling us the services the watch performed.  And now that multi-purpose watch exists. I saw it in the New York Times last week.  And these days GPS enables us to find and be found in the world.  Too much with us is right. Where was I? 

 

a private history of furniture and other things, part three

I'm not quite ready to leave this section of my memory hoard.  Thinking about things we own and the accidents by which we acquired or lost them, I have to explore a little more.  I never read the whole of Swann's Way, only the condensed version: the descriptions of the things or events which layered into the writer's memory and stayed there -  l'essence des choses.   That kind of layered recollection hits me every day and it's because I am surrounded by furniture, things and stuff (that's a technical term) that I am led into a kind of post-hypnotic trance.  That sounds heavy and time-consuming but memory comes in complete flashes so it usually doesn't take long. Sometimes the flash is just that,  a swift light on a past event; other times, however,  it sends me off course to check on something I hadn't thought of in ages.  That's when I have to be careful, not only because I have been side-tracked but also because I am often assailed by emotions that threaten to paralyze me for the day, and I have to deal with them before I go on.  This is beginning to sound complicated.  I may have to scrap this blog. I'm going too deep. I am stumbling on my trip down memory lane and I am in danger. Anon, anon.