As you know, Martin and Louis are the only two children who are permanent residents in the courtyard (other than little Victorine, who is about 13 months). But Martin and Louis have friends. Loads of friends. About 15 boys visit regularly. And they often ask if they may borrow a pen, or some chalk, or some little something. Today they ask for a big marker. Blue Marks-O-Lot is what I gave; and no, it never occurred to me to ask why they wanted it. Martin is extremely responsible. Who am I to question a 12-year-old?

So, what can you do with a bottle of dark rum, cider vinegar, nail polish remover, and nail files? Refinish the coffee table in Elizabeth’s salon! Why was this necessary? Because Martin and his friends decided to make a charming greeting for a special visitor arriving in Pô this weekend. Next thing I know Martin is asking for something, in French . . . a word I’ve never heard. A word which neither of us can find in the dictionary. OK, Martin, show me what you want to do.

Well, it wasn’t so much of what Martin wanted to do. It was Martin had to do. The boys had placed a thin piece of paper on Elizabeth’s coffee table and wrote their welcome greeting. Guess what happened. That’s right. Bled right through the paper onto the table . . . just as clear as the greeting written on the paper. So Elizabeth’s coffee table also reflected the greeting. Permanently!

No soap, not even Club de Commerce soap . . . nay nor the toughest dish-scrubber would remove the permanent blue greeting. The solution? Quickly, before Elizabeth returns: refinish the coffee table. Well, I didn’t have any Holmer Formby’s . . . but I haven’t lived here for almost a year without learning improvisation. Two pricey nail files later, the blue was gone . . . or at least barely visible. But, alas, so was the varnish . . . a golden oak. Hmm. Vinegar did a nice cleaning job on the overall table but did nothing to restore the finish. And nail polish remover could damage the remaining finish. But what about nail polish remover, combined with a little dark rum? Yep. Worked like a charm. Blended the finish nicely.

As I left the Copia living room, Martin’s great aunt (or maybe she’s his grandmother) said Dinley, or thank you very much. I said Kodalay! It’s nothing. And that, I know how moms are.

So what did Martin learn about permanent markers and the need for thick paper? And what did I learn about handing-out seemingly innocuous markers to the children? We can only speculate.