The Hibernating Mole who mistook weed for toilet paper...

Now, one of the curiosities of living in a place like Amsterdam, as I'm sure you all know, is the amazingly large quantities of hash and weed in circulation. And not just circulation. It is snorted, sniffed, eaten, drunken, smoked, inhaled and even injected by all manner of people.
Most of them being over enthusiastic tourists with more cash than sense. However, on occasion, you do get an inhabitant with no clue as to what the stuff is let alone what it can do for you.

Take for instance Mr Mole.
Mr Mole was a bit of recluse for reasons only known to himself and his pet flea, Markus. His seclusion (except on working days when he was forced to make an appearance at the bank) led him to be rather naive.
He thought, for instance, that putting jelly on pasta made a nice dessert and a welcome change to one's usual diet of pasta with tuna...
Clearly he had several issues going on. One of them being a severe lack of taste. Taste is something you acquire. You may have been told otherwise by various people along the way but don't be fooled. Taste is something you are taught, by society mainly.
After one too many, often painful, mistakes you soon realise the error of your ways and adjust yourself accordingly.
Not so our Mr Mole. (B. Mole actually, but this is not something he liked to broadcast. A name is very Personal).
He was alone from a very young age, his parents being hippies of the sort that thought a child would just grow up by himself, if left along for long enough.
So they hiked off to South East Asia, or thereabouts, where they succumbed to dysentery after several rather debaucherous years.
He was told of the fact some six months after it happened by the local flowerboy who, having stolen their gold teeth, thought he could readjust he Karma by calling the Next of Kin.
He was sadly mistaken; his ashes were found some 10 years later in a Bombay gutter. A very sad story and one I shall not discuss any further here.

Anyhow, you get the picture. He was a loner from the word go and was thus never taught by society the proper way to conduct himself. He did meet a rather lovely young (female) mole at a garden party during his 23rd year but although he fell for her and she for him, he discovered after all of three days together that his need to be alone was greater than his ability to adapt to another person and so it ended before it even started properly.


But to get back to the weed. One of his issues concerning life in general was his lack of knowledge as to what people DO in their Free Time.
Things like drinking, flying kites and island hopping were all quite alien to him seeing as he never set foot outside of his hole when not required to work.
What did he spend his time doing in there, I here you ask....Ahh well, here is a curious thing. He was an avid organ player. We are talking mega enthusiast here.
How so? Well, before his parents discovered the High Road due South they had taken him to all manner of Religious Outlets, to let him choose for himself what he wanted to Believe.
One of them, the most memorable as far as he was concerned, was a Church. In it you see, was an organ (at that moment being played by Toby, before he founded a band and discovered Cool. He was only seven at the time so one must make allowances). Anyhow, young Toby wasn't half bad on the old organ and so it happened that a life long passion was born inside Mr Mole (at that point still known as Bernardus).
So this is what he spent his time doing in his hole. Playing (not to mention polishing) his organ.
Come to think of it, he DID have a certain resemblance to Stevie Wonder...not that he would know who that was, of course.

Anyhow, once again I am becoming distracted. My point just now was this; his cluelessness on life in general extended itself to the fact that he knew nothing whatsoever about the liberal drug laws of the city in which he was living.

(Before we go on, let me just explain something...We ARE speaking of Amsterdam, indeed we are. And yes, we are also still speaking of Fresia, I promise you that. Fresia is a place IN Amsterdam, just on a different dimension, that is all. It is really quite simple. Just like Bombay and anywhere else also exists on a different level (several probably). The world is the world the world over, just with a different cast of Beings and a different atmosphere. I hope this is clear? Then I shall continue...)

This meant that Mr Mole had no idea that the green leaves his neighbour was growing in his bathroom (on account of the amazing levels of humidity in this tiny room...no window and no fan assured one of this. Add a special lamp and you have yourself the perfect conditions for a Dutch tradition).
Mole being Mole did not look to see what he was wiping himself with when he was over one afternoon to help with the placement of a new doorframe. (He was very Duty-bound, to the point of overcoming his lack of sociability. Duty was important, even to one's fellow Beings.)
So he grabbed the nearest thing available to wipe himself with and lo and behold it was a Plant.
This did not dismay him however; being a Bachelor for many years had taught him to use just about anything. A plant was no less odd than last weeks newspaper.
The neighbour however, was rather dismayed upon discovering a year's worth of growth thrown away with one swipe. Such things are very distressing.
In fact, he needed a little smoke to calm down.

This lack of respect for a cultural heritage did not endear him to his fellow citizens. We are all very tolerant but ignorance is something we cannot stand.
The result of this little misdemeanour is that Mole became even more secluded, no longer even having duties to perform for others.
A person needs to be needed however much he thinks this is not the case. Thus we find that Mr Mole had a sad demise, literally shrivelling up until one day he just plain disappeared.

His house became available for purchase soon after and this is how Liverwuss and his Delfinia were able to move back into Town.
They had to break down several walls to allow for light (windows not having been a priority for Mole) but otherwise it was a perfect abode for the two of them.
Delfinia even discovered a liking for the old organ herself.