Toomuchstuf
There were always more things. Some here and some there, with other things just around the corner. Toomuchstuf loved things, shiny things, things that rolled, things that crinkled, whatsits, thingamabobs, do-dads, round things, square things, bumpy things, smooth things and of course whatever thing appealed to the mouse eye of the moment.
This Christmas though Toomuchstuf felt it was time to let go. But what things? All things are useful! Colourful, wonderful, plain, fancy…definitely Toomuchstuf acknowledged…an intervention was needed. Who best to call upon but cousin Wantmore whose name implied more but whose name harkened back to a youngling mouse who asked more of his poor mouse family who had, at that time, yet to find their place amongst attic treasures. Wantmore had grown well beyond the need for things though he deeply cared for the human things he felt entrusted to his care.
And so, as all mousetalk goes there was a letter sent via mousemail, paper carefully chosen, using only the finest of inks, good salutation, the predicament explained, a courteous plea for assistance and the grand sign off…From your goodly hearted cousin Toomuchstuf. Toomuchstuf considered for a moment to include a thing with the mousemail but then filled with much mouse anxiety choosing shape and colour…should it be padded or wrapped, should it be in a padded envelope, crated, oh gosh how best to send? And so it was this day a letter only for Wantmore.
As mousemail has short delivery times, as most mouse extended families live in soon time delivery areas the letter arrived later that afternoon. Wantmore was making tea, with a few ginger crumbs and mince tart bits for good tasties. Wantmore moved his plate to the arm of his chair and pulled the blanket across his mouselyness. The letter to one side as he bit into the ginger, closing his eyes and then acknowledging the fine tasties of the season. Oh, to live this well Wantmore thought…being forever grateful of his home and duties to his human family.
All was well as he opened Toomuchstuf’s letter. As Wantmore read he sighed a concerned mouse sigh for he knew his cousin well. Too much of too much is too much and too much of a thing is too much stuff. So Wantmore went off across the scampering of snow to the nearby house, up the drainpipe to a hole in the side, near the gable, next to the turret and pushed at the door.
Upon entry the gathering of rolly-polly, sis-boom-bah, tumbleware, smoothware, bumpy and plain poured from the corners (if you could see the corners) with only narrow pathways in between. Where Wantmore asked is my cousin the mirth curator and then there he was carrying three green beads within his paws attempting to sort by colour (for this is much of mouse nomenclature). Now green goes here, and blue there…these pink ones are too few….oh but what about my marbles Toomuchstuf asked?
Then, there ye be, Toomuchstuf saw cousin Wantmore and after considerable hellos and how do you dos and wellenss, they then worked together through this usual alone time of his cousin. These things bring me comfort and memories Toomuchstuf explained…there were tears as Toomuchstuf pondered each and every thing to consider for divestment. And as Wantmore always listened and as he always knew it was not the too much stuff of this particular day but the alone time of this particular day. And so the two mouse cousins spent some while looking at things and recalling memories associated with each one. All things have significance Wantmore thought depending on how they have been collected and cared for.
Many hours later and during the time to leave time, which takes some while in mouse time with best wishes and wellness for the season, Wantmore at the door near the hole in the wall reached into his pocket and with his one mouse paw provided as a gift a singular, spectacular pink bead to Toomuchstuf. For me Toomuchstuf asked with considerable joy and with great mouse nodding, wobbling, and waves, Wantmore said Yes and scampered to his home knowing this Christmas he had given Toomuchstuf exactly what was required in his alonenessness…love, attention and another memory.
All images by P. Ferguson, December 2023
Merry Christmas to one and all…mouse and non-mice!