Every Item Has A Story

My brain is too full. Yesterday I was at a work gathering and a long-time employee showed a photo of herself and a former employee. When she told me who the other guy was, I said "I know him. They had his farewell party at a park." Mind you I have never met the guy, but when I hear that guy's name I can visualize his employee photo, and the photos of him in the department he was part of, and the photos of that picnic. I do not need this information about the guy, who was an intern, but being able to summon this info is a parlor trick that probably allows me to keep working in my current capacity.

So when I looked at my breakfast this morning I thought visually, as I often do. Why am I wired to remember the origin story of every item I own?

From the left -- Wheetabix cereal (sentimental purchase reminding me of a childhood trip to Otherlandia) in bowl from a set purchased that time my sister decided that I was going to host Christmas and I bought new dishes and then she said that mom was sad that she wasn't hosting Christmas that year and completely changed all my plans while asking me to help with hers. The spoon? Ecko Eterna Canoe Muffin. I bought a fork in this pattern at the Purple Heart thrift store in the Old Place, tracked it down on Ebay, and have bought Canoe Muffin ever since. The classic 1990s mug is from a trip to Vashon Island to see mrguy's dad. The little salt and pepper caddy was inspired by the table settings at our hotel in Dessau, but purchased from the Bauhaus museum. Blue thing in the background? Aqua Zinger, as seen in Sky Mall on a work trip. Make your own spa water. And over on the right, the recent purchase -- a Magic 8 Ball.

Will the lasagne that mrguy is making be tasty?

Most likely.