The last couple of months I've been lost in a mind fog.I'm finding that I have the attention span of a goldfish with Alzheimer's. Nice rock....nice rock....[thunk]....where did that big hard thing come from?
My vagueness was brought home to me when I went to get a mug for my morning cuppa. There were only three mugs facing me.
Since I usually have about eighteen mugs in the cupboard I had to wonder where all the other mugs had got to?
I've never seen mugs migrate north for the winter before. Was this a new phenomena? Something to do with global climate change?
Then it occurred to me that every morning I make myself a cuppa, go down to feed Arnold the calf and then wander around the farm checking on things or down to the garden to work. So off I go on six cylinders, with only two firing.
Sure enough there are three cups sitting like nesting birds around Arnold's stall. The cup hunt is now on in earnest.
Next stop the garden. Each tap yields a cup, two on various garden posts and another one that had fallen off its wooden perch. I’m on the right track.
So then I walk the yard fence and this comes up trumps with another five. By the time I get to the main gate I have a bucket load of cups, a sense of destiny and a great hunger for breakfast.
After breakfast I unload the cups ready for washing and something occurs to me - where is the mug with the fish pattern I had with me this morning when I went on the cup hunt?
Pic from Google Images
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