Repressed memories

On a whim I decided to look at The Calendar of Saints' Days, 'A Saint a day keeps the Devil away' apparently. Today is St. Dunstan's day. St Dunstan seemed like a pleasant fellow, for some reason the patron saint of armourers and gunsmiths, but just one of those saints who spent his life advising various kings and being promoted to Bishop.
As far as I can tell he died a natural death and never had to be martyred, apart from running away to Belgium at some point when he fell from the favour of King Eadwig. I'm not surprised there aren't too many Eadwigs around to be honest.

However, good St. Dunstan triggered one of those repressed memories. I had forgotten that I had sent my son Austen to a Catholic infant school, St. Francis of Assisi. And a very excellent primary school it was. But before he could go to the associated junior school, St. Dunstan's, we moved, and thus he went to another good but non-denominational junior school.
But when it came time for secondary school, I sent him to an Anglican one, Bishop Reindorp, which we of course always referred to as Bishop Reindeer.
And yet that particular son is one of the least confused people I know. Of course, he may well be very confused and keeps it well hidden, and he has turned out to be Anglo-Catholic.

A memory I will try to repress will be that of my trip to Ikea with Canadian Karen this afternoon. She rang me around lunchtime, and said something along the lines of that she had her dungarees on so we should go to Ikea.
'I'd better go to the liquor store,' said Kev, which sounded connected at the time, but I think he is trying to prepare like a good marathon runner, for the September visit of Sleepy.
Karen doesn't drink.

I insisted on going to the canteen in Ikea. I like the self serviceness of it, and I like the Swedish food. Canadian Karen can't believe I like to eat in Ikea, but at the same time she can't believe the prices, so she is torn. Another friend that she worships wouldn't be seen dead in Ikea's food place.

Eventually we got to wander around the store and as ever, we squabbled loudly. A man just in front of us was very amused and looked as though he might burst out laughing. He kept glancing at us, and finally made some comment about UBC psychology students.

Ah how I look forward to squabbling in Ikea with Sleepy in September. Not that we have ever squabbled before, so it may be more being loud and British.

As I said, Kev is preparing for the Sleepy-one's arrival. He is ordering white wine from Bayou brewing.
My own preparation for the first visit, that of my son, daughter, daughter-in-law and grandkids in July, is becalmed. I have every minute micro-planned already, so I am now tinkering and thinking about food, but for one detail.
I think my sports filter may be interfering with my attempts to book tickets for them to go to a CFL game. The BC lions website tells me it isn't selling tickets online at this point. Then they give a number of reasons why this might be. I may have to ring. I may have to ring a sports organisation.
This could get interesting.
Can a memory be suppressed before it happens?