London Journal, extract
No; I wasn't overly worried about this becoming a memorial blog to recent persons who've died.
The Late Dr. Mrs. Wry Mouth was kind enough to give me a blank book before whisking me off to London and Points North. This was good, because my memory is notoriously porous. Indeed, it took me two full years before I realized that my teaching mnemonic for solving linear algebraic equations — Simplify, Isolate, Eliminate, VErify — spelled "S.I.E.Ve.", which mirrors my memory processes.
So it's nice to be able to sift through the words salad on the pages (just about 60) and be able to use them to stimulate my faulty memory core from time to time:
If her opening line "Headin' Back to London, Yeah Brother" has any resonance for you, you may want to head on over to the " Stravaigin Aboot" blog for a more thorough-going and funny treatment of the trip; the Late Dr. Mrs. usually breaks trips up into blog entries over time. For the Brothers of Wry Mouth, the trip over is mandatory.
;o/
I wish I would have had more than four days in London, but my son and I were just stretching our legs on our way to Egypt. I too was supplied with a journal, which I should probably look at once in a while, since I would wager that my mind is sievier than yours. Another way I remember trips is to buy the books and suchlike from each place we visited. Professional photographs and touristy info are good reminders also.
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Ah...I approve of the notebook. The Britannic influence has clearly released yer inner Luddite. I guess typing into a Word file on the Blackberry would not really refect a symbiosis with St Paul's.
You actually remember your mnemonics...
My portable brain (Version 1 MDA Vario) is only being resusscitated with great diffuculty these days. Seemingly, my loyalty to the phone carrier has earned me a free solar charger. I would happily carry it about 24/7 hanging out of my pocket, but the irony of this piece of kit in a city north of Ednburrah will not be lost on the Wrys...
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A SOLAR CHARGER! Ooooh. I want one. Why don't they give us one here in sunny CA?
And stop calling me late, Mister ...
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