I happened to spot the Japanese word for salt in an issue of Popular Mechanics Magazine the other day. An hour later, while switching on the kettle for a cup of coffee, I had forgotten what it was.

Here’s how the Japanese word for salt ended up taking over an entire day.

It was still early, about five in the morning.

I’d heard a noise and gotten up, and the natural progression had led to lighting a cigarette and leafing through a magazine.

The magazine itself had found its way to me during a walk. It had been forgotten by the side of the road, and I couldn’t resist the temptation of a free magazine.

Some facts in the magazine had gone in easier than others. I recalled a few sentences on an Alpaca farm in the Overberg Mountains. I could remember the mention of Hansie Cronje’s cricket match-fixing scandal. One article covered a couple of DIY tips.

While making coffee, I continued recalling bits and pieces of the magazine’s content.

The diagram of a spinning wheel (from the Alpaca article) was useful, but I’d still have no idea what to do if I was put in front of one.

Another article moved to talking about Ebola and its effects. The magazine was published before COVID-19, and there’s no mention of lockdown in this issue.

A letter somewhere in the magazine thanked the editor for the woodwork projects. This reader fondly mentions their father’s enthusiasm for building things together with the family.

A “Time Machine” segment looked at a Popular Mechanics magazine from the past. Here, air-conditioning is advertised as new – and this issue takes the time to explain how it works.

At this point, I had finished the coffee and migrated outside. I lit another cigarette. I stared at the magazine, cover down.

I could recall a great deal of the magazine after reading it once.

I sat down and spent some time looking at overhead birds.

Now, what the hell was the Japanese word for salt?

It was a small detail. One word, in an entire magazine. I could probably have drawn the image of a Lazy Susan from memory, but didn’t try, because I couldn’t locate a pen.

My brain was completely stuck.

If I bothered to check, it would feel like cheating. I decided that I was going to leave the magazine in-tact, exactly where it was, and wait it out.

From there, I let the day happen.

There was a short, panicked shopping trip. I remembered to buy salt, but the evasive word didn’t come to me yet.

I got home from the shopping trip, and the magazine was in the same place.

I still wasn’t going to check.

We progressed to food, and afterwards I decided on a quick game of bridge against GIB.

Somewhere halfway through the game, my memory kicked back in.

Shio.

The Japanese word for salt.

It was something I knew my brain had recorded, but also something that got lost in the mental file cabinet too soon.

It turns out all that I needed was a game of bridge to jog my memory.

The next time you forget where you put your keys, or what flavour of yoghurt you were supposed to get, stop right there and play a game of bridge.

It might do the trick.