At least I haven’t lost my mind - yet | Peter Goers

I’ve lost a lot of things in my lifetime but this was a first, writes Peter Goers.

I’ve lost many things in my life. I’ve lost money, pets, love, fairweather friends, a camera at the Paddington Market, an heirloom gold watch in Istanbul, respect, sanity, hundreds of books and worst of all I’ve lost parents and friends to the next world.

But I’ve never lost a sock until last Saturday night.

For the highly cherished lack of a social life, I do my washing on Saturday nights (how sad) and I only wear bamboo socks.

I wear them to bed which is not a passion buster because (sadly, again) I have no passion to bust. Bamboo socks don’t pill or pong.

They could once only be bought at Womad, but now you can buy them everywhere.

Unhappy housewife sitting with socks near the washing machine with colourful clothes on the floor at home. Picture: iStock

Neurotically, I count my dirty socks as I toss them into the front-loading washing machine.

I loathe front-loaders and all the bending over they require, but my laundry is designed for one. Joan Rivers said: “If God had wanted me to bend over he’d have put diamonds on the floor.”

There were two neon yellow socks and 10 black socks. When I hung out the washing one black sock was missing.

I searched for two hours. It was not in the drum, or caught in the rubber gasket or anywhere in the apartment. It has escaped. It has vaporised. The other sock, its mate, is forlorn and so am I.

Theories abound as to elusive lost socks.

Physicists have even developed a lost sock formula. Are lost socks the rings of Saturn? Are they with the missing weapons of mass destruction we went to war to find?

It’ll turn up because nothing is ever truly lost – just misplaced. We lose things all the time – keys, phones, our car in a carpark and out temper.

I had a list of lost things but I lost the list. I forget what I’ve lost just as I remember things I’ve forgotten and things I’ve forgotten to forget.

These are Donald Rumsfeld’s known knowns, known unknowns and unknown unknowns and lost socks.

We’ve all trawled through rubbish bins looking for something. Never, ever put anything in a book for safekeeping.

I lost a large ancient nail from the ruins of a Byzantine church (probably a nail from the True Cross) and 10 years later found it in the lining of a suitcase and, inexplicably, it had not alerted metal detection in airports all around the world.

A huge, rowdy party I gave in the 1980s finished at 6am and I’d just gone to sleep when at 7am someone was bashing on the front door.

A woman said: “My girlfriend was at your party last night and she came home without her teeth. Can I come in and look for them?”

I let her, and when I woke at the crack of noon she’d gone and I never knew whether she’d found the teeth.

We lose battles and explorers are lost to the landscape.

But we lose love too easily. We should take love when and where we find it.

The people we love whom we lose can be found in our hearts but we have to know how and when to look for them.

At least I haven’t lost my mind – yet.

A historic old image of the disused copper mine at Burra. Picture: File

Now we call Burra Burra Burra

Burra used be called Burra Burra by the Burra Burra Creek.

I love Burra – it has the best vibe and the most cherished heritage of any SA town.

In 1845, Burra got copper and in 1846 Burra got another copper – its first policemen. Burra in boom supplied five per cent of the world’s copper and saved the nascent SA economy.

You can see a copper coffin at the marvellous Bon Accord Hotel in north Burra.

Burra enjoys and deserves its vast tourism reputation. Burraites or Burranians are very welcoming and full of charm.

At the Paris-end of Burra there is one of the two best bakeries in SA (the other is in Kapunda), the grand town hall which, incredibly, has a working fireplace on the back wall of the stage, a superb art gallery and two great antique shops.

The legendary Arie Bout has the last great quirky antique store in SA and the lovely Darrol has the beautiful Burra Antiques shop.

As Burra celebrates its 180th anniversary another antique shop in the main drag is charging $5 per person to enter the shop. Copper load of that.

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Originally published as At least I haven’t lost my mind - yet | Peter Goers