I remember hearing a great deal about Timbuktu as a child from my parents.
No, they had never been there. But they threatened to send me there if I misbehaved. Before my hair was cut off in a coup between my mother and her hairdresser, I was asked if I really wanted to let my hair grow to Timbuktu. I wasn't sure if Timbuktu meant the moon or my butt.
Just a few minutes ago, I was cutting into a beautifully colored map of Africa. I scissored out a square, realizing too late that I was cutting through Timbuktu. Oh, I wish I hadn't done that. I could really get into doing a Timbuktu piece. I'll just have to find me another map.
This was a map from 1950. Timbuktu was then part of French Sudan, now Mali.
I love a map. Especially an old one.
3 comments:
our parents must have swapped timbuktu stories....i heard all about it growing up, too! have a fun weekend playing with your new (old) maps! :)
Oh, yes. I remember Timbuktu. I remember hearing people say with disgust, that they had been forced to travel all the way there. Sometimes it got really bad and they had to go "around the horn."
Well I can say I never made it to Timbuktu, but my husband actually went to Mali when we were in Germany.
Can't wait to see more of your new pieces!
Post a Comment