I had one of my oh-shit moments today, but not over what I normally expect. For someone who spent most of her childhood rocking a semi-photographic memory, I have a lot of brain farts. You know, the tip-of-your-tongue, almost-have-it, it's-buried-in-there-somewhere-in-all-the-clutter mental malfunctions that make everyday life, well, interesting. Never mind that it also took me almost to the checkout line in the grocery store to remember I needed garlic. No, what I'm referring to is my Shakespeareamnesia moments. I used to be able to quote "Romeo and Juliet" like most people quote Dr. Seuss. This was only partly thanks to the frenetic movie version that came out when I was in middle school/high school. You know which one I mean. If you don't, well, I just dated myself. Either way, not remember Friar Lawrence's advice to the young couple as they're about to get married? For shame. Especially when I'm trying to use it at the beginning of a poem.
There now, that's off my conscience. I'm happy to report that with the aid of cable TV and a couple of glasses of wine, I am now finished with chart B of Omelet shawl. I'd've gotten further still with it if I hadn't dithered away both mornings this weekend "recording" songs at the piano. Oh, the wonders of smartphones. All I need now is the ability to use it consistently as a phone.
Oh, I don't have pictures of Omelet shawl? Pardon me while I go and, um, remedy this little detail. Eventually. Assuming I don't get distracted by anything e--ooh, shiny!
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