Sometimes, I'm afraid I'm getting stupider the older I get. Once, I opened an old book to find a study sheet from high school trigonometry folded between the pages, and all I could think as I stared at the sheet was, "Wow, I used to know what this all meant." I wasn't much good at math then - it took me a couple running starts to pass advanced algebra.
But I had no idea I would backslide to the point where it takes me 10 minutes to count 222 stitches, divided into thirds on a circular needle and come out with the same number twice.
Compounding matters tonight, I decided to make split pea soup. But the plastic container of split peas transmogrified into a container of split mung beans (?! I don't even recall buying these. What the hell did I think I'd do with split mung beans?) and let me just say that split mung beans aren't quite doing what split peas do when simmered with onions, celery and garlic. Mostly, they smell like ass. The skins boiled off and are floating on the surface of my "soup" like little beany carapaces, and I think I should have started with a pork hock like my instincts told me to.
Off to salvage soup and sweater.