Aha! I have remembered to start drafting the next item on this site. That’s important because I find, at a late age, my memory getting more and more unreliable – a condition which I am told is rather common. There are, of course, potential outcomes. Does that bill get paid? Did I realise that my cousin was visiting me for lunch? Did I renew that subscription? Fortunately, my children are aware of this, and don’t hold back on reminders. (Although I am quite open to forget the reminders). But the outside world is not so clement – and I may find myself apologising for what is seen as deliberate delays.
And it hits me in other ways. From time to time I am visited by younger members of the family. Some of these are people of consequence: the distinguished historian, the civil servant who is rattling up the promotional ladder, the top executive who tries to retire but is too valuable to do so – and so on. But, ask for their names – and I am reduced to calling them all ‘darling’. And that’s a problem, too. I started adult life at drama school – and that is (was?) a community in which all females were addressed as darling. I have never lost the habit. However, I married one of them – and I have never regretted that.
Probably most writers have had the nuisance of knowing exactly the right word to use in the next sentence. And we learn that thinking hard is not the solution. Just put in xxx and carry on. And a few seconds later it flashes back into the mind. Grab it while it’s there. So I, and perhaps others, will have had to cope with a poor memory – perhaps poorer than it used to be. So let’s exchange how we have learnt to cope. Or not.