Attic Raking, Cookie Baking

Rose Tinted Cookies

Get it? Rose tinted spectacles plus cookies...completely lame.

To attic rake or cookie bake?

Enough of the friggin riddles.  It is hard to jump out of your mind.  It is hard to jump out of my mind but the real problem here is writing something that other people want to read, and possibly (probably) are able to understand.  So I’m focussing on making the little big at the moment.

In moving out, on and into I have spent a considerable amount of time swimming through a darn load of old shit.  Now I say shit, in essence of what it means to the world and its monetary worth it is undoubtedly on a par with smelly, pavement smeared dog poo.  But for me each scrap of a scribbled school note, broken necklace chain and pressed rose (it sounds romantic, it was mouldy and misguided), held a tiny piece of a childhood I have spent the rest of my days trying to understand, dissect and grow up from.

But alas, enough of my nostalgic wonderings (wanderings) What I really want to know is should we delve unwittingly into the past? Does it bring up memories that you can learn from, aid you or others or even right your path?  Or should we leave well alone?  Content in a  direct, simplistic path of milk replenishment and keyboard dust cleaning?  Leave Brown in his already desperate shameful loss? Or did we need to know how truly incapable and ‘maddening’ he was?  What is digging it all up really worth? Or should we just let what be, be? Climb slowly out the attic, remembering to switch off the light, quit the nostalgic rake and return to the warm, comfort of our everyday cookie bake?

Discuss.  As apparently I have no real opinions today, just tormenting questions.  Or am I just lazy…perhaps I am the maddening one!

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