MENO - the anniversary

Today is officially the birthday of the MENO blog.  Unfortunately, due to prevailing conditions of moving home and no internet link, nothing fancy can be done.  So am pre-scheduling a repost of the very first entry here.  Just to remind me why it all got started...

One of the things that has caused me stress in recent years is the loss of short-term memory power.  Okay, that's old news for many and just one of the mysteries of aging for a great number of others - something to be ignored until at arrives.

Trouble is you don't notice it arriving until after the event.

Which event?  Oh, which one will I share with you today?  Hmmm let me see….

How about the one where Emm made me write on the calendar the date of the concert to which she was treating me for my birthday?  That being the date of the birthday itself, no less. Yes.  I have wonderful friends.  Let not the purport and pertinence of friendship pass you by.  Hopefully you have such friendship within the immediate family also, indeed I am fortunate that way.  But very often it is the company we keep at key points in life, outside of the family unit, with which we form equally strong bonds.  They tend to be more honest and the really good ones will steady the ship when the tornado arrives.  They'll clip the wings when the flying gets too high.  They'll clean up when you've spilt the milk.

They'll ring to remind you again on the very morning itself (at 6am before you leave for work mark you!) "YAM, which sari you're wearing tonight?"

"Tonight?  Why do I need to dress tonight?"

"It's your birthday."

"Already?"

The silence shouted at me. I looked at the calendar.  "Oh, yeah. The black and red silk I think."

"Good choice, I'll collect you at 6:30."

Now in my defence, it was one of the busier shifts at the Aged Home that morning and as a result of another nurse falling sick, I had to step in to cover the longer hours she left vacant.  The Aged are a tiring lot.  Ranging from infants in need of feeding and hugs, to rebellious teenagers ready to hit out when the going gets tough.  [Note to self - avoid becoming one of the Aged…] Getting home at 4pm all I could think was to get in the hot shower, put on the sloppies and curl up with a good book and some hot chocolate.  Which I did.  Lovely.

Ring Ring.  Ring Ring. Bleary eyed I got to the phone before the answering machine kicked in.

"You ready?" the phone asked.

"Who's this?"

Again with the silence.  Some foggy thing tapped at the back of my skull. I looked at the clock.  6pm.

There was a slow and simmering voice on the other end of that line.  "Put the phone down.  Get ready.  You've got half an hour."

Look, it's not my fault, okay?  I'm menosoupal.  Can anyone explain to me, though, why I can remember all this NOW!