It's hard to believe that it's been over a year since I dared to hit the stop button and sort out the words that have generate and float my skull's hemispheres. It seems harder to grab a particular one than it used to be. Words and ideas are as illusive as the feral cat that sleeps on our back deck. When I do managed to grab on to something, it may come out as nonsense, a question, an exclamation or an answer to which I have forgotten the question...it may even reflexively leave a painful scratch.
I wish that memories were as sharp as the claws of that feral cat, whom we call Phantom. However, there are advantages to some memories being as dull and foggy as a Portland morning in springtime. What was it that was planned for today? What didn't get done yesterday? What was so important for me to remember, and what could safely be forgotten? I know there was something around the house that I was supposed to repair! One needs a check list to keep things straight.
