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Munich, Germany
I am married to the love of my life and am finally able to shower him with all of the attention he deserves. I am now retired and living the life here in Europe. I am an American, he is an Australian, and this is our second overseas address. The first was Shanghai, China and now Munich, Germany. Come along and live the life with us as we continue our adventure of discovering all Europe has to offer.

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Friday, October 30, 2009


My memory is seriously being compromised and the only consolation is that one day I'll be able to hide my own Easter eggs! 

I understand that this is one of lifes' little hardships that are common to all of us who reach a particular golden age. But the knowledge that misery loves company doesn't assure me--not this time. 

 Now a days, the i-phone has literally become the little white string that generations before us tied around their fingers in order to remind themselves of a task that they didn't want to forget. 

My i-phone goes off all day long alerting me of things on my "To Do" list.  I can put it on my i-phone calendar, set an alarm, and even write notes about it right in the phone.  But the reality is, I find myself going back and replaying these messages many times over. 

It's like my brain has become a sieve...as soon as it registers, it's gone. Is this normal? 

The hardest part of this process is that although I've regarded myself as a highly organized individual, unless I know where I've organized it, it hardly matters. I spend the better part of a day searching for where I organized something--is it in the i-phone, in the computer, in the desk drawer, in the bookshelf, on our kitchen counter....it's an endless stream of organizational madness. 

For a while, I thought it was due to the fact we relocated in Germany and I hadn't yet gotten used to where to store things.  But, now, six months later, I can no longer deny it--I am memory challenged.

Before such high tech devices, while I was an educator, I used ball point pen on my palm to write notes to myself.  I later joked that it was my palm pilot.

I am realizing that with my palm pilot at least I knew where to go to retrieve information.  Perhaps I should return to my "Old School" remedy?

writing on your palm

Image by bignoseduglyguy via Flickr

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