…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…
A sweet memory, remembered long enough for recording.
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Welcome aboard, Joanne! Rarely a reliable helmsman, but sometimes worth the ride!
Yes, other scraps of that box float up through the “brain soup.” Of course, these days I have to rely on Wiki for most images, but it’s possible the map might be retrieved…
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Thank you. I’ve read you for years, but lacked courage to climb in. That and the mystery of WordPress……Which I still face. I thought it knew me, but no.
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I don’t know why they have to tinker with things! Actually, I think I do know. This is still a freebie and I suspect they’d like me to upgrade to a paid site! Not gonna happen, Lois!
I pop in to your place from time to time, but I am so easily side-tracked I try to restrict my wanderings.
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More please.
I well remember the rubbish/treasure divide. And straddle it to this day.
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Oh, I think that’s everyone’s excuse for not being a Tidy Demon! Certainly mine!
Once cameras are charged and I can “borrow” the scanner…I’ll be back
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Intriguing!! I like how the curser on the marbles picture is pointing to the past, which suggests a little time travel magic going on.
SX
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P.S Please could you edit an ‘s’ at the end of ‘suggest’ into my comment above. Thank you.
Sx
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Done! And I had not noticed the cursor. Curses!
Yes, as I mentioned to Joanne[above] I am reliant on the Internet for images.
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I like the cursor – I’d claim it was deliberate – it shows direction!
Sx
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Ooh1 you’re sneaky, just like me! (Except…I really didn’t notice it!)
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Ooh! To be continued! I’m glad, as I don’t like to think of all that treasure left lying around in the stable.
Was the box of treasure tucked behind this sort of carpet sweeper (about 30 secs in)? “Hoddadada hoddadadada” etc. etc…
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Even more archaic!
And the treasure was not abandoned. Just long enough to take the horse once around the training ring.
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Goodness, yes, children’s treasure troves. My father was always trying to clear out my precious bits and pieces on the pretext they were a load of junk cluttering up his lovely tidy house. He especially hated the ratty, bug-infested stuffed animals I adored. Parents just don’t understand.
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Thank you for popping in, Nick. Will you have a map to share?
As for parental lack of understanding…I was, I guess, lucky in that regard, as long as toys and games were cleared away from the kitchen by meal time.
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I can’t wait for part 2!
Like all kids, I had a fascination for ephemera – my Nan would give me her button tin to play with, and I would be quiet for hours… Jx
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Oh! Button tins! I feel rather sorry for the kids of today whose mothers don’t have button tins!
And the wait will soon be over, Jon!
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