Village idiots love to get village buildings, accessories and ideas from each other. Like any other past-time, it is better when shared. For years, I only had Rita to village babble with. In the summer of 2001, I transferred to another floor in a different hospital, leaving the familiar (including my Rita) to work with a new group of nurses. At Christmas-time, all I got when I mentioned my village were blank looks. No babble. No plotting, planning, sketching. One night nurse was into Christmas decorating, but not villages. I was adrift in a sea without a fellow idiot to hold onto.