Downmarket Adventuring

There are crocuses blooming in the front borders ('Firefly' mostly), signs of daffodils making a break for daylight, and we're gearing up for Modernism in the American Lit. class. Spring must be coming.

Last night, the Viking and I helped Maman empty Grandmaman's storage locker in the basement of the old apartment building and move the contents to the locker in the basement of the new building. It was vaguely like being in a cut-rate fantasy film, or possibly an adventure game run by an unimaginative dungeon master. The locker areas are narrow, poorly lit, and dusty. Maman had a large ring of keys but no tags, so we had to try each of them before we could get the padlock off the door. Once the door was open, we had to drag out old trunks and locked boxes (some of which were empty, but some of which were not) and open them, trying to decide what needed to go and what needed to be thrown out.

Sometimes the keys on the ring worked on the locks, but more often they didn't. The Viking was able to pick the locks of a couple of the smaller boxes, but had to force the lock on a larger trunk -- with a mattock we found in the locker. (The trunk was in poor condition anyway -- he was not destroying a valuable antique).

We did not find jewels, antique suits of armour, or magical weapons, sadly. We did find a ridiculous amount of alcohol. Two cases of rum, one of blended whisky, and several large bottles of rocket-fuel grade gin, not to mention the half-dozen bottles of wine which are now of questionable value even as vinegar.

We moved everything (almost) with a minimum of fuss and bother. The Viking claimed the mattock and an axe. Maman sent us home with a bottle of rum and a bottle of strawberry wine on the chance it might make a decent vinaigrette.

Real treasure would have been an old window sash I could turn into a cold frame, so I could have salad greens out of season.

verso - recto