Why is it that I cannot cut and carry pine logs — especially at this time of year — without hearing a particular Victorian Christmas carol in my mind? (The tune itself is from the13th century, and the original lyrics referred to springtime!)
And why is it that when I split the logs, I cannot avoid thinking of Saying 77 of the Gospel of Thomas?
We need to be able to delete "files" from our memories, I think, as we do on our computers. I get tired of the repetition.