During work in the attic a couple of the papers which are pasted to the vertical plank walls have become dislodged, just as several of the planks themselves have also been dislodged. Our foreman had found a very small fragment of the 1758 farm accounts loose on the attic floor; I tucked it into my small bound notebook for safekeeping.
Imagine my distress this morning to find that my one-year-old son had despoiled the notebook, which lay on the floor, open, the fragment nowhere to be found.
A little while later I thought of another place to look. Like most one-year-olds, he is none too fastidious, but is at times fascinated with the waste process. Sure enough, I found it crumpled in the kitchen garbage. The notebook has flattened it out again:
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