Monday, January 04, 2010

When A Knight Lost His Spurs

I’m going to gloss over Christmas and the New Year. Not because they were especially bad (though circumstances could have been better) but because between illness and grieving I am just sick to death of harping on and on about my own misery and I really don’t want this blog to become my own personal version of the Jeremy Kyle Show*.

(*And, no, just for the record, I haven’t had a sex change operation, sold my liver to raise money to feed my crack addiction or produced 17 kids of wildly differing skin tone from a surprisingly restricted gene pool.)

Upon my grandfather’s death I inherited his medals and other war time paraphernalia. In themselves they are not of much monetary value but in terms of personal family history their significance is obviously immense.

Last year, at another funeral, I was given some other war time paraphernalia that used to belong to my grandfather’s brother – some cavalry spurs, a silver plated cigarette case and a pendant among the many treasures.

Naturally I’d now like to bring these two historical archives together in one place and create a source of family memorabilia that will be worthy of the name “heirloom”.

But do you think I can find the spurs and the cigarette case?

They have vanished.

Not. Not just vanished. That is way too passive. They are deliberately hiding from me; withholding evidence of their visual corporeality. I am convinced of this.

Normally I have a great memory. I can remember dates, times, appointments, things to do and things I have said. I can definitely remember where I have put things. Especially precious important things that need to be kept safe.

So why the hell can I not remember where I have stashed the spurs? It’s honestly like my memory has been wiped by rogue aliens with a penchant for bodily experimentation or I have been (without my conscious knowledge) recruited into the same American military camp that trained Jason Bourne. I have hazy recollections of storing them on a shelving unit and then moving them elsewhere at a later date where I thought they’d be safer.

But this safer place is now completely and absolutely unknown to me. That particular memory cell has ripped itself away from its fellows, climbed out of my ear and somehow abseiled into oblivion.

I have checked all the logical storage places.

Nothing.

I am now checking all the illogical storage places in sheer desperation... behind the cooker, the ice compartment in the fridge, underneath the rug in the front room...

Because I know they are in the house. I know it for a fact, for sure.

But yet they remain lost.

Completely lost. Lost in the last place that I put them.

My God, is this what dementia is like? You start hiding things from yourself, losing things simply because you cannot recall the original care you took to store them safely?

My God, is this the actual start of dementia?

*Sigh*

Happy New Year everyone. Whatever year it is.


34 comments:

Owen said...

Steve, you are in trouble my friend... serious trouble... yep, sounds like the beginning of the end, as it were, the start of the long greased slide leading to the great trash bin in the sky...

Did you try looking on your heels ? Or maybe in your shoe closet, attached to your riding boots ? Maybe they got up and ran off with a travelling circus ?

Well, good luck, and get well, don't despair... searching for the spurs will surely help you find other missing treasures.

Take care, and remember, it's all downhill from here...
;-)

Steve said...

Owen: downhill...? That'll make things a lot easier for my horse... all I have to do now is find a windmill...

Completely Alienne said...

I am afraid it is old age, Steve. It happens to me a lot. I spent 3 months searching intermittently for my swimming goggles - I knew I had seen them when I moved stuff out to decorate my bedroom but I could not remember for the life of me where I had put them. In the end I gave up; they finally reappeared when I moved stuff off the landing to redecorate - I had put them in my old swimming bag, which was in a charity shop pile, instead just not the one I now use.

It's a slippery slope ...

Steve said...

Completely Alienne: a slippery slope... and I'd be wearing roller skates if I could find the damned things...

Gypsy said...

I was just saying in my response to you on my blog how I am missing your posts, and blow me down, here you are.


On the bright side at least you usually remember where you put things. I am notorious for losing my keys. On NYE I went out to the car to get something and when I was about to return to the party I couldn't find the keys. I JUST HAD THEM. People came out with torches to help me find them and it was quite embarrassing. After half an hour they turned up...on the bonnet of the car right where I'd left them.


I've been at the bottom of the slippery slope for years now and it's not so bad. If enough people know you have a bad memory it actually comes in handy when you forget things. Know what I mean...*wink wink*


I'm so glad to see you back. You've been missed.

Steve said...

Gypsy: aw, thank you. It's nice to be back I have to say. Although it was kind of nice having a writing break I do find I go a bit funny mentally and emotionally if I don't write. Not badly but enough to feel "out of sorts". It's nice to feel "normal" again! I must admit that, as I get older, the old cast iron memory is letting me down more and more. I now have to utilize a diary and the reminder function on my mobile phone to remember things when once upon a time I would have recalled them when necessary by sheer force of will and mental dexterity alone... When I get to the bottom I'll keep an eye out for you...! ;-)

French Fancy said...

Once again this is a post I can truly identify with. When my father moved to France to live with us he gave me the diamond eternity ring he had bought my mum for their 25th anniversary. 25 beautiful clear and clean diamonds set in platinum. I must put it somewhere safe I thought - yes, you know what is coming - where the bloody hell did I put it?

I'll find my ring when you find your spurs - that's a promise.

Steve said...

FF: what might work is if you come to my house to look for the spurs and I come to your house to look for the ring... I'm sure my eyes are skirting over various hiding places and dismissing them out of hand as not being worth looking in "as I wouldn't be so stupid as to put the stuff there"... and that is precisely where the things will be. Sometimes a fresh pair of eyes is needed.

Anonymous said...

As we have been burgled twice over the years I have a terrible habit of hiding things in 'safe' places...and then never being able to find them when we need them...put that with just getting older and I seem to be on the slippery slope to dazed and confused a lot of the time...

Steve said...

Anonymous: it's a good job there are so many of us on this slippery slope as I doubt any of us would remember where it is otherwise...!

Löst Jimmy said...

First off, a good New Year to you Steve this time from the confines of vast Central Mexico...I wish you and yours all the best for 2010.
I will relate to you a similar experience regarding a car key I lost a few years back. I was convinced that I mislaid it in the house but I searched everywhere, repeatedly like you did, I came to the conclusion I must have mistakenly thrown it out with some the rubbish...some 3 months later it turned up in one of the very places that I had turned upsidee down. It was there plain to see and how I could not have discovered it earlier I will never know. Mysterious is not the word.

Steve said...

Löst Jimmy: greetings to our man in Mexico! Happy New Year to you! I bet you're a mite warmer there than you would be at your homestead...!

As for things that go missing... I'm now on the verge of blaming aliens, elves and Derek Acorah. I think I need professional help.

Inchy said...

I lose things all the time, Steve, it's called THE GIRLFRIEND.
She works to a system called "tidy", something I'm not too familiar with, although I do remember my mother and sister muttering something about it many years ago. The friction stems from the fact that I generally have a good memory, and therefore am happy to leave things "at my arse" as she puts is, because I know I will find them, usually, exactly where I left them.
The Demon, on the other hand, has the memory of a ZX81 and can (and has) left for work, got in the car, drove to the station, got on a train, got on a plane, landed in London, got on another train, booked into a hotel, then realised that instead of texting me that she has arrived safe and sound on her mobile phone like a normal human would do, she has instead subconsciously left her phone on top of the TV and has taken the Virgin Media remote control away with her.
Here endeth example 1.

Steve said...

Inchy: sadly the roles are reversed in my house... I am the tidy one who puts things away while everyone else strews them about the house like gizzards at a mediaeval jousting match. Hence I am not getting much sympathy me and my tidy ways...

Joe Bloggs said...

Nice one, Steve - ESP like the "safer place" scenario... brings back vivd mem..eh..er, well I forget but I think I know whatcha mean. Sorta.

Having browsed your links recently I was reminded of my crazy Lego daze and decided to get hold of some new blocks as an après xmas pressie from me to me... and was delighted that our kids abandoned all their My Littlest Pest Shop crap in order to build, build and re-build; finally taking over - so I had to get some more, and soon we'll raid my parents loft to recover my original stash of childhood bricks and then there will be a'building like never before. Hark! The bedbugs are calling... gnight-knight

Steve said...

Joe Bloggs: glad to have made a Lego convert. Lego is the best drug there is though can be expensive. My own personal collection is currently valued at £10,000. That's a lot of plastic. But a whole heap of building. And unlike those bloody spurs I always know where it all is.

KAZ said...

No
At the age of 32 I lost all the record cards for my tutor group at the beginning of the year - including photographs.
Don't worry - no one seemed to notice. But I had an anxious year.

Suburbia said...

Oh, most of my days are like that!! I can never remember where I have put things. I used to be really organised, but have let the whole thing slip over the last year. Once you get over the annoyance, being disorganised can be extremely liberating. Well, that's what I am consoling myself with!

Hope you find them soon.

Steve said...

Kaz: at least I won't get into trouble for my ability to misplace things... that's got to be a positive.

Suburbia: but I don't want to be liberated! I want to be uptight and anal and find things! ;-)

TheUndertaker said...

Mate, I am sorry to say this but it might be all over for you now, especially when tilting at windmills! So, with Sancho by your side, Dulcinea del Toboso behind you on your trusty steed Rocinante, spurs on your heels, you can ride off into the sunset...
Or, it could be just a temporary glitch that comes with the Christmas / New years madhouse debacle : )
From experience, you always find what you are looking for when you least expect it : )
All the best

The Poet Laura-eate said...

Ask the angels.

Then if the missing paraphernalia turns up you will have both it and proof that angels exist!

Happy New Year Steve - you sound like you need it.

Let us know which Jeremy Kyle you will be featuring on. ;-)

English Rider said...

I am the one whom family members call to find out where they have put things. I notice that kind of thing. For me to be unable to lay my hand immediately on that which I seek is unnerving. I have learned a sort of Zen "trust in yourself" mantra that if I just relax and wait the information will be released back into an accessible part of my brain.
Plan "B" is to look again with fresh eyes. Imagine that the once shiny spurs are tarnished, not the color you are expecting etc. You may have glanced over them ten times already.
(p.s.I was too moved by your silent night post to comment at the time. You write with a lot of heart.)

The Sagittarian said...

haha, oh dear...do you know that just last week I parked at the supermarket, did my shopping and then headed outside to be stopped completely in my tracks with the sudden wonder of where the bejesus had I parked the car?!! Casting my beady eyes about I sussed that there were at least 8 other silver cars in the park but I had no idea of which one to head for. As it turns out I got to my car after getting it wrong twice. If it's the end for you lad, then I'm ahead of youo...or behind...or somewhere???

Clippy Mat said...

You may have found them by now but if not, it's only because of stress. When you really need/want to find something, that's when it truly evades you. The want and the need of it and the circumstances of late make you stressed. you will find them when you stop looking. When you just relax. This just happened to me recently. I was on a mad hunt for my lost glasses for weeks and weeks. I ws really pissed off about it because they cost me a lot of money and I make a habit of NOT losing things. I looked everywhere, and I mean everywhere. then I gave up and just decided to stop looking. And that's when i found 'em.
There now, listen to your aunty Pat and don't you feel better?
:-)

Miss behaving said...

Personally I can never find anything, ever, I never remember where I put things even if it was minute ago,i spend much of my day looking for things especially my car ekys and my phone, BUT I do remember you blogging about said missing articles when you received them. It's a long shot but maybe you mentioned in that post what you were planning to do with them then, or maybe just re reading it will jog your memory! Good Luck!

And ditto you were missed and Happy New Year!

Steve said...

The Undetaker: yes, I am hoping that by simply not looking for them I will come across them... plus, I can't find any windmills. I seem to have lost them too.

Laura: do you mean Charlie's Angels? What a splendid idea! Suddenly the search will be a lot more fun!

English Rider: I must admit I am now taking the "hands-off" approach with regards to looking for them. I'm trying to ignore the fact I want to find them in the hope I the information I require will suddenly leap back into my brain! And thank you with regards to Silent Night.

Amanda: I am fearing the day that I can no longer remember where I live... I think that day might be closer than I orginally thought...!

Clippy Matt: I am starting slow breathing exercises even as I type... and I'm still waiting. How long does this relaxation thing take? ;-)

Miss Behaving: that's not a bad idea but unfortunately said articles were in their original resting place when I wrote that and I moved them some weeks afterwards fool that I was. Grr! And thank you - it's nice to be back!

Tenon_Saw said...

The most annoying thing is when you keep coming across something week after week but, when you actually need it, it is lost.
The lost hammer I blogged about quite a while ago was found in the loft when I went up to get the Christmas tree.
Have you had a 'man look'? I'm sorry to admit it but you need to ask Karen to have a 'woman look'. This usually works in our house.

I was fascinated by the phrase 'I inherited his meddles' wondering what kind of fidgeting you were now getting up to or whose business you were now sticking your nose into!

Steve said...

Tenon_Saw: doh! Meddles! Can't believe I did that! :-) I will correct that right now... and then maybe ask my darling wife to have a woman-look... it might just work!

The Crow said...

So happy to see you back, Steve. I missed reading your posts, though I did catch up on some of the earlier ones.

It has been my experience (and I am a bit older than you, so have had more experience with these sort of conundrums) that long-sarched-for items are always, invariably, bet-money-on-it, in the very last place you look. I can give you a guarantee in writing if you like.

:)

Steve said...

The Crow: ah - that's my problem then! I haven't yet looked in the last place...! The trouble is, the last place I look didn't have it... so I now have to look somewhere else...!

A Write Blog said...

No it's not old age. I've been like that all my life.

It's down to having a vivid imagination. You have so much going on in your head that sometimes important things get filed awau where they shouldn't be by the normally eficient filing clerks inside your head.

Your imagination just gives them too much to do.

It'll probably come to you in a dream.

The Crow said...

Well, then, it couldn't have been the last place, at all.

I am confident you will find the spurs. Shall I do a bit of gris-gris for you?

:)

French Fancy said...

Okay - you're on. I'll come and share with Karen and the boys, turn your house upside down, all the while muttering 'spurs, come to me, come to me.

In the meantime you can be holed up in the back of beyond in France, talking to the dogs and going through my innumerable boxes and bags in our many many cupboards calling for diamonds.

Oh -Now Mr FF is in Paris the dogs sleep either side (yes, you are the butter in a bichon sandwich)

Steve said...

FF: you nearly had me sold until I saw the sleeping arrangements...