rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

In Which I Forget When

It occurs to me that it's been ages since I've seen any deer in the neighborhood. They used to show up on my block, or at least in the orchard at the end of it, quite frequently. It might be partly that I've just been spending much less of my time in the front yard and far more in the back yard from which the street and orchard can't be seen, but I suspect that there actually are fewer cirvidae about. The orchard, eventually to become a public park, is now almost entirely free of apple trees, and I believe several of the vacant lots eastward toward the river have been built upon in the last few years. It's harder for the deer to get here, and there's less for them to eat once they get here than there used to be.

The upside is that it's also been quite a while since I've seen any dead deer lying by the roadside. That used to happen two or three times a year, but I can't even remember the last time I saw deer roadkill. It was always a disturbing sight, so maybe it's a good thing that they aren't coming into town so often anymore. I do miss seeing them munching away at the neighbors' rose bushes in the evening, though. Occasionally they would even come into my front yard and munch the plants right outside my windows. Now all I ever see are squirrels and raccoons. I also still smell skunks sometimes, but that I'd rather not talk about.

At the moment I'm getting deja vu, and have the feeling that I've written this entry before. Maybe I have written about the subject recently. I'm getting more and more forgetful about all sorts of things, including what has gone into this journal. Oh,that's right. It's almost all weather. So far I'm not failing to recognize people, but their names do seem to escape me more often than they once did.

Specific words are getting harder to fetch as well. Searching for a butter knife I've put down I now sometimes wonder not "where did I put that knife" but "where did I put that thing I spread stuff with?" I suppose that eventually I'll be smearing yellow stuff on toasted white stuff before adding the brown goo and the sweet fruity stuff. I just hope I can still remember to eat the consequent object instead of using it to keep that big wooden thing between rooms from slamming shut in the fast moving atmosphere.

Ah, the fascinating events of age! I wonder how long before I forget the act of remembering?
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