When selective memory and staycation remembrances meet this inevitably happens

It was the fastest passing 10 days in recent memory that I could remember.

First came Thursday night which was fun.

Then came Friday, during the day, which was transformational.

Well, not exactly transformational for me, but definitely so for the arborvitae I transplanted. To clarify, I dug it up and moved it to its new home on the other side of the back yard.

The tree wasn’t doing so well as it didn’t like the less than adequate sunlight it was receiving each day where it had resided.

Cleaning out the dead pines near the center was part of the transformational duties my wife participated in.

Then she actually filled in the soil and watered the little bugger, too. Wait, I think she cleaned out the dead pines after this. No matter. Here’s to continuing.

It’s currently sprouting new end needles almost 10 days later. Not too shabby.

So what could we do to top Friday you ask?

I think it had to be pretty good as I can’t remember right now.

Wait.

I think I mowed the grass and we each had two margaritas with some good Mexican food for dinner Saturday night.

I know. You’re thinking we lead a charmed life.

And we do, just more so when we are both on staycation.

Sunday leaves my memory presently foggy.

I know I should take up journaling. It would probably help me better remember what all I did on any given day. I think it’s like a diary but don’t hold me to that.

I don’t hold out much hope that I’ll ever end up journaling as for now my increasing memory lapses are fodder for all the critics out there who want to take shots at writers who don’t have perfect memories.

Could perfect memories be overrated?

I say yeah.

I would suggest a perfect memory would not allow you to go off on tangents like I just did.

When I finish this piece I will bemoan (not regret, as I have no regrets) not remembering to catalog something I did that was astounding on one of my staycation days, which just did jog my memory.

Yes, there was another high water mark staycation day. I want to say it was Sunday as I was looking to beg off of any more laborious activities on a day of rest for most people.

But, that would not be me resting on this particular Sunday.

l went out to the front yard after being asked nicely by my beautiful wife to weed the ivy bed there that had been long neglected and overrun by weeds during the cold, harsh winter we did not have.

Weeding is one of those activities with no merit. It’s, in fact, the epitome of insanity if by insanity you mean performing the same action over and over again and expecting a different result.

In weeding’s case, even if you do a good job and remove all the weeds to be had, they’ll still come back and you’ll be weeding again after your wife asks you nicely once more.

While I weeded, my neighbor commented on what a mindless activity it is. I should have feigned offense, but I could not bring myself to do so because it requires a lot of skill to make sure you pull out the weed by its root.

Mindless? I think not.

Anyway, Sunday night I was beginning to feel sore.

You know the kind of sore I’m talking about when you basically squat, reach, bend, stand up, squeeze, pull, rinse, and repeat for almost five hours.

It’s the kind of sore that magnifies by 10 the next morning and features your body screaming and begging not to force it to go through with your morning workout.

I relent to my body’s aching and promise it a cool adult beverage or two by happy hour that same evening.

Then comes Tuesday of which I have no recollection.

Wednesday was another memorable day, however, in that it must have been blissful as I am presently not able to conjure up any thoughts about it.

Same for Thursday.

Friday seemed like Groundhog’s Day. Did we have Mexican food with margaritas again?

I don’t know.

Nor do I care.

Saturday I bumped into an end table and for the second time in two weeks shattered an unlabeled pint glass. Welcome to my version of Pinterest.

Staycations are the best.

You don’t have to be an introvert to enjoy them although that is helpful.

The main thing to keep in mind, if you’re capable of that sort of thing, is that if you can remember all that you did, the staycation could not, in fact, have been very memorable, to begin with.