SHORT HAIRY BREECHES!

My friend the bookseller mentioned a person considerably shorter who gets off the bus at Hyde Street some evenings, after working at the hospital.
I probably know who that is. It's Ragnall's cousin, the one with the college degree. Most of them don't have that much education, so he's the oddball of the family, though on the very rare occasions when a few of them get together, they don't treat him any differently. He's a nice fellow.

And we all admire him for his determination.
He has a medical career, despite the odds.

Now he's saving up to buy a bridge.


Because, of course, to his kind bridges represent stability.
One can charge goaty types for crossing.
Gold! And excess dairy.


Despite their long tradition of self-reliance and life unencumbered by human culture, wild creatures like him have over the ages adapted to certain things only found among the tall people. Such as Russian Caravan Tea (Jackson's of Piccadilly used to make a great blend, but they were bought out years ago), Virginia No. 10 by Sobranie (which ceased to exist a long time before), and, crucially, light bulbs. Trolls need light bulbs.

And toilet paper. Life in California is impossible without toilet paper. Short hairy Scandinavians did not come here before toilet paper was available.

Trolls. Lightbulbs. Toilet paper.
Civilization!


The corner market at the top of the hill ALWAYS keeps pallets of toilet paper in the stock room, as they learned long ago that running out means that he will push them angrily and show his teeth. And really, who can blame him? When you leave your hidey-hole basement at three in the morning for a roll, it really is too far to walk to find another open convenience store.

Especially one operated by immigrants who don't question appearance.
Because most Americans look strange by their standards.


The hospital where he works also takes the way he looks for granted, as anyone wearing scrubs and a lab coat is a reliable person, especially with a name tag. And naturally he is the right height for the delivery ward.
They've seen all kinds there, and are used to freaks.
Doctor Håreten, ob-gyn.

I should mention that delivery wards in most hospitals do have toilet paper. It's not just nappies and puke buckets!


He is well advanced towards getting his very own bridge. Clever investing, portfolio diversification, and options, have increased his worth enormously, and though the costs of engineering projects have gone up -- partly due to new earthquake safety requirements in the state -- and existing structures are seldom offered for sale, he feels confident that sometime in this decade he shall acquire one. Preferably near where lots of goats reside.
Berkeley, or Marin County. Either or.
They appreciate goats there.


Where there are goats, there will be milk.
Trolls just purely love milk.
Milk is good.


Please note that a few bridges require seismic upgrades.
That now adds considerably to the cost!



[When my friend mentioned the short gentleman on the bus (whom you should NOT pat on the head), I immediately remembered this: Drink Milk!]




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