Has everyone had this experience? Is there a name for it? Is there an explanation as to why it happens?
It happened to me again this morning. The gentleman walking toward me on the sidewalk was suddenly hidden by the telephone pole and we would have passed without knowing what the other person looked like; except he stopped while behind the pole, reversed direction, and we came face to face. The queries above came about in the resultant conversation. He thought it might be called a coincidence - which is a whole other area of interest and 'reason for stopping'.
I could not find any reference to this with googling. Crows might have an opinion.
I've never heard mention of the aftermath of mourning, when you have come through the fog to awareness of the state you have been in, to the rather startling realization that you seem to have gone through the motions of daily living, that there is now the feeling of coming awake and looking around and wondering what next. But it is distinctive. It is not about the loss. It is about adjusting to what has been gained.
I believe I could manage maybe thirty to forty words per minute on the portable Underwood I got for my twelfth birthday more than fifty years ago. (I must admit that if I factored in the errors and time taken to correct them it was more like ten words per minute.) I have no idea what the speed would be on this lovely old Remington machine. Possibly a negative number. Hah!
I could likely ask Google via Mac and Mac would, like it is now, swiftly type out the letters with a sort of tiptiptiptip sound and Google would silently answer (in nano time) my query as to how many words per minute typists in the past could produce on various machines.
What a contrast with now. Unbelievable what we went through, but, of course, we had no comparison.
I would not trade Mac for one of the past. But I do have two manual machines as well as this one - just in case the power fails. Why this would be necessary has not really been thought through. I assume pencils would suffice.
Grandkids can remind us of things we forgot we could do. Such was the case with sunflower seeds and how to open them without needing to use hands.
I forget what inspired the discussion - we tend to gladly embrace tangents and follow them where they will lead - but I told them how I could put a bunch of sunflower seeds in my mouth and let my teeth and tongue do the work of shelling the seeds, spitting the shells out, eating the seed that had been shelled, while keeping the rest in mouth and choosing the next one to be shelled and eaten.
They looked impressed and wanted to see me do it. The only sunflower seeds I had were the all black ones purchased for the birds which are not meant for humans; likely something to do with sanitation. So the show and tell had to be put on hold.
A few days ago I spotted these in the grocery store. I can still do it! I can hardly wait to share with the grandboys. I imagine contests will ensue to see how far we can spit the shells.
And I will tell them about riding on a bus in the States where the driver had a bag of sunflower seeds on the floor by his feet and a paper bag beside this and what he would do was pop a handful of the unshelled seeds in his mouth and work them around his teeth and tongue and then, a few minutes later, open his mouth and put all the shells into his hand and dispose of them in the paper bag. He then seemed to eat the shelled seeds so maybe he stored them in his cheeks like a chipmunk.