Lint from my brain or Fuzzy Thinking?

I'm reading a book right now called, "The Memory Keepers Daughter". It's an excellent novel and one that is hard to put down. (hence my silence for the last few days!)

I was captured by the title. Like most people, I am drawn to a book by its cover or its title. The title reminded me that I am the memory keeper of my family. This blog is a piece of our family history, a piece of lint from the catch tray of my brain.

My Mr. Wonderful is reading a magazine called, "Mental Floss" he laughs hysterically at articles and tries to explain to me why they are funny. I laugh appreciatively (not because I find it funny, but because I find it funny that he has a need to explain it to me knowing that there is no hook in my head that will catch the concept much less find it humorous.) I laugh because this is the essence of the man I married, anxious to pass along knowledge and hungry for concepts. His brain is always actively engaged in the next project.

I lost my favorite bracelet. Mr. Wonderful originally found it for me in a mass of donations and instantly thought I would love it. I did love it and have worn it every day for the last two years only taking it off to shower. I lost it somewhere between Minneapolis and Saskatoon. Somewhere in between running to catch the next flight, struggling with bags it slipped off my arm and out of my life. I miss that bracelet. I miss that I don't even have a picture of it.


I bought a new bracelet. It doesn't look anything like my old bracelet. It has lots of blue beads of various sizes. I like the color blue. It reminds me that this is a new phase in my life and now is the time to add color to my very ordinary days. It's somewhat wild, I like that. I took a picture of it just in case one day it gets lost too.


Mr. Wonderful got really mad on Monday. He had replaced a battery in his PDA and inadvertently lost all the information that was stored there. Mr. Wonderful is very careful with his tools and also very frugal. He was doing the responsible thing and watched in horror as it disintegrated in front of his eyes. Did I mention that Mr. Wonderful does not handle frustration well? Needless to say, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and caught all of his displaced anger. (Note to self: In case of a similar incident simply head to the nearest bomb shelter immediately, say nothing, and close the door quickly!)

The Wise Man ages with Grace-or whatever his wife's name is!