March 07, 2013


There was no paper to hand so I reached for the pen next to my chair.

I have a frustrating habit for forgetfulness, not just the "what did I come into this room for" forgetfulness but on a slightly grander scale where important issues drift out of my brain as I muddle along distracted like a butterfly seeking nectar.

I have tried to adopt a positive strategy by leaving notes and, when I remember to do so, they work well. As I left for my early morning fishing trip yesterday there by the door, next to my car keys was the A4 sheet stating "Food. Stuff in Garage" as a loud jog to my tired brain. But what good are notes if you don't have paper to hand? By the time paper has been found the thought may be just another lost idea.

Early in my policing days I started to make notes on whatever was at hand, quite literally. Sherlock Holmes (in at least one dramatisation) made notes on his cuffs but I used the base of my thumb. Far less untidy than a the back of the hand scrawled with random times and addresses and much less likely to wear off before the information can be passed on than the palm. And so it was just the other day that I had a thought that evidently needed to be acted upon and, with no paper available I had reached for my pen.  I remember thinking at the time that this was going to be so obvious when I looked back at it that I need only jog my mind with three initials L. F. C. and they were duly inscribed on the 'drum stick' below my left hand.

Several hours later I looked at my hand and there it was LFC........ LFC? What did it stand for? LFC, LFC, Ell Eff Cee, I was confused.


When confronted with initials I tend to make up something to fit them, anything will do its just the way my brain works. This quirk does not help when trying to recall the words that they are supposed to stand for so, after some initial and logical attempts at deciphering my most basic of codes, my mind wanders.............. LFC?

Look For ...... what begins with 'C'. And I really don't recall looking for anything.

Leave For - Don't know many people who's name begins with 'C' and I'm not heading for Cairo or Cardiff.....

Liverpool Football Club - No, that's not it.

Leave Ferne Cotton? No, I'm not that lucky to be in the position.


It went on.............. and on.

We sat down and watched a film during the evening Two hours of wordy drama about the turbulent lives led by a small group of people who's personalities and lifestyle I never engaged with. I couldn't even tell you the film title. I sat, my eyes on the film my brain churning the letters LFC.

Low Flying Cats

Little Fat Canaries

I was not getting any closer.

That night my fitful sleep was interrupted by bouts of insomniac musings ..... LFC?


The next morning I confided in Nicky that I had lost the meaning of a vital piece of information "here" still faintly visible on my hand. "What have I told you about writing things down" she said with one of those looks.

As I looked at the fading letters I began to doubt myself - is that an 'F' or a 'P'? LPC? Ell, Pee, Cee?

No, I can't go through that again, I'm sure its an 'F'.

The day passed with the 'code' bothering me throughout just as it did the next day. I went to bed early as I had an early rise ahead of me. I drifted off quickly only to snap my eyes open at midnight - LFC!

Lump Fish Caviar

It was obvious - wasn't it? I'd read something about using LFC as an additive for early season carping which is something I have done in the past and as this spring the carp are very much in my plans......
I had checked out prices for tins of caviar on the Net and found that one supermarket was doing a three for the price of two offer and the note left to remind me was so that I didn't miss out.

The offer ended the day before.

I told Nicky of my relief and was greeted with "Humph, how long have we been able to afford bloody caviar to feed fish?" in a very supportive way.

I led in my bed relieved that I could rest, annoyed that I had missed the bargain. I needed to remember to check out availability and prices the next day.

There was no paper to hand so I reached for the pen next to the bed and..........


  1. Ah Dave, the hell of forgotten things!

    Scientists have discovered that you forget things you want to remember just as soon as you walk through a portal into another room or environment, say from outdoors to indoors, bathroom to bedroom, car to riverbank. It's true. I always think of stuff to google when I get back home only to find the idea I had down the canal is lost as soon as I complete the faff of getting two filthy dogs through the front door successfully.

  2. Thanks Jeff, I don't need a portal to forget, perhaps its just a talent I possess :o)

    Rich TM

    Thanks Mucker

  3. It will only get worse with age mate LOLOL

    I have a small black note book that i carry with me most of the time so i can write down all the rubbish that goes through my head during the day.................. and there is plenty of it :)

  4. I tend to forget my notebook :-)

  5. Very much enjoyed this! Not only do I forget my handwriting is also becoming increasingly hard to read. Oops! :)