Finding Things
What have you been up to, boy?
Trying to emulate Sherlock Holmes. When Kathi and I misplace something, I try and deduce where it is rather than searching the entire estate, then, when I do eventually find it in a place I hadn’t thought of, I rebuke myself for having overlooked some obvious possibility.
I know what you mean, and you can get to rely on someone to do this for you, when you fail all by yourself. There was a time when I lost a pair of reading glasses. I was certain that I knew where they had been, and I didn't need any help to look, so I had the usual search of places, and nothing turned up. So I got rather peeved about it all and said things like, ‘Who would want to steal my glasses?’ ‘Things don’t walk off of their own accord.’ I had to lay out for another pair, and I continued my grumbling for years. ‘Fancy someone coming and stealing my glasses!’
I was certain that I’d looked in all the places they might have been, and I didn’t need any help.
Then one day Jean was fossicking around and found them, wedged down under the cushion on my chair. I’d been sitting on them for ages — for years in fact.
When Jean took it into her head to find something that was lost, even if it was late at night, she’d get onto it, and she knew where and how to look. She was the girl with the answer. And that’s one of the things I really miss about her. The answer is not with us any more.