I am alone in the big empty house, squatting down on the hall floor, pulling bits of decayed masking tape off of the wooden blocks. “Leo news” it says on one shard. There is a thread taped to one block and arrows drawn in black marker pointing in various directions on others. These are all remnants of cathedrals, bridges, and villages; villages in which sometimes the real estate agent would make a deal with the bank and everyone’s money would vanish. There are plastic bins with playmobile bits in them, little plastic dinosaurs, monopoly money, and lots of car parts. I am trying to deal with the detritus of 20 years of playing. They were learning the 3 “R”s all right: regulation, remuneration, and wrangling. It was inspired all the time, and ferocious often.