Cabin Feverish

Teddy is not the only one with cabin fever around here. It's not that I have anywhere I need to go or that I don't have plenty to do around here. It's just the idea of being trapped until the snow plow comes through that makes my brain go strange places.

One morning Dave and I sat around and tried to name all the NFL teams . . . and then their coaches . . . and then the quarterbacks. For someone who used to read at ballgames, I only missed two quarterbacks and one coach.

Then yesterday I got it into my head to see if I could name all of Iowa's 99 counties. I made it to 62 with a couple of "maybes". It's kind of amazing how names pop into your head at random moments. Dave and I were both upstairs yesterday -- he was working in his office and I was in my sewing room working on Pickle Dish arcs -- and I kept hollering out names for him to write down so that I could add them to the list later.

It's kind of scary to think of what's stored in your head and what you can retrieve -- and what you can't. One of my many talents is being able to name character actors from the 60s and 70s. Watch a rerun of Mission: Impossible with me and nine times out of ten I can tell you the real name of the villain and the heroine and tell you which Star Trek episode they were in.

Why can I do that? And why can't I just remember why I walked into the kitchen?

Oh, and by the way, there really is an Ida county in Iowa.