Remember when everyone was into Facebook?
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When I was little, like six or seven, I had this hand-me-down toy called “Lincoln Logs”. It had something to do with the American President Lincoln having been born in a log cabin, I think, and the floorless wooden cottage of my grandmother where I played with this fabulous toy was surely much grander than poor old Lincoln had had to deal with. And look how he turned out: shot in the head at the theatre.
I used to make cabins out of these logs, with their notched connection points and plastic roof bearer. The roofing was green planks, and it seemed lazy to me that the pioneers of America could produce flat planks sometimes, but made do with fat round logs the rest of the time.
I can still feel the texture of those green roofing planks, even though it was more than forty years ago. I can even smell them, in my memory. I enjoyed just handling the materials, which was a good thing. There wasn’t much else you could do with them.
There wasn’t enough of these materials to make anything other than one basic configuration: a square with a pitched roof. There were designs on the box that the Logs came in that promised feats of construction that Frank Lloyd Wright would be impressed by, but I think you had to buy expansion packs to make those.
Here you can see my Invisible Friend playing outside the cabin I would always build. She could make herself quite small or quite large, as the occasion required. Here she is quite, quite small.
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She needs to stretch before sex.
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I can’t just tidy; I need a plan…
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