Spatial memory

Well, Suzanne and I grumpified each other and had some words about what needs to be done and who should do it. Didn't really resolve anything, but I noticed later -- after I'd thoroughly cleaned the kitchen floor and planted some trees -- that Suzanne had changed the sheets on the bed.

She said she was hesitant to vacuum or clean because she was afraid to move anything. She said that I get all upset when something gets moved, which actually, I don't. But the deal is pretty much the same as with Nancy: if you move something, remember what it was, where it was, and where you put it. Nancy would occasionally get in a fit and clean off the kitchen table, for example. She'd say, "I put everything that was on the table in a plastic tote, and it's in the computer room."

I'd be looking for something that used to be on the kitchen table, and sure enough, that one thing would not be in the aforementioned plastic tote. "Oh, wait, except for that one thing. I'm not sure where I put it."

Hhhhhhh...

I tend to remember things where they are in terms of where they were last used and what else was nearby. I'll walk around the house, saying, "there was a set of computer tools that were in the living room, about waist-high, and there was something yellow nearby." And I'll look around for some spot that matches that layout and color and sometimes texture. "It was on something soft."

Sure enough, I'll find the tools in the living room, on a shelf, near the phone book, on a towel.

If someone else interferes in that process, the object could well be anywhere else on the surface of the planet and I don't have even a clue as to where to start looking.

The old "a place for everything" organizational method doesn't work for me, because to me, things belong where they are used or where they were last put. And the "place for everything" constitutes the house. Or the barn. Or the garage. That's as far as I narrow it down.

Not an easy configuration to step into, I guess, but when I first described my house to Suzanne, one thing she said was, "that's how I'd live if I could get away with it!"

Well, she can. All I ask is, if you use something or move something, remember what it is, where it was, and where you put it, because I do. And if you move it, your memory essentially has to become an extension of mine. Don't think I don't do this... I'm always telling Suzanne where she left her purse, or her glasses, or stuff we brought in from the car from the store. It's actually not hard, just a matter of getting used to it.

Anyway, we are now de-grumpified. I will try to be more forthcoming about what can be moved and what cannot, and what can be picked up to clean under it, and all that. All in the name of keeping cat-dust at bay.