…which is why we have maps. Yes! This is coming to you from the dark and danger-fraught depths of…where, exactly?
Well, a long time ago, in a cupboard under the stairs (accessible only from behind the big dining table when said table was moved for carpet-cleaning) a little girl ( for the purposes of this exercise we’ll call her “Dinah”) found an old chocolate box, stuffed full of what most adults would call “rubbish!”
Children and adults have vastly differing ideas of “rubbish.” The little girl carried her box of treasure (see? vastly differing.) out to the tack room at the stables and carefully laid out the contents.
3 chipped cats-eye marbles and one steelie. A circle of cardboard with split pin “hands” in the centre. Seven old, foreign postage stamps with strange writing the girl could not read. A tattered old notebook with lists of words. (Probably an aide de memoir for swatting before a spelling test.) A small green and gold satin rosette and a race card with the name of one horse heavily circled and underlined: scribble,scribble, something “ly” scribble, scribble”W” scribble,scribble “ood.”
And underneath the old notebook, a faded, torn and badly creased sheet of paper. A map!
Georgie-Pie came in for some harness and peered over her shoulder.”What’s all this?”
Dinah said it was all hidden in the cupboard behind the carpet sweeper. “Probably something one of the kids has forgotten about. Take it down to Nan and see if she knows.” He picked up the harness and, heading towards one of the stalls, called back to her.”Want to drive?”
Map and marbles forgotten in a trice, she raced after Georgie-Pie, eager for a ride in the sulky.
to be contd…