As long as I’m proceeding with construction of the shuttle, I might as well go full steam ahead. This isn’t a winter, there’s nothing else to do, project.

So before opening the box, I head to the store and buy a container of organic, fair-trade, instant coffee, the first coffee that’s ever graced my residence, so that I won’t lose any valuable, afternoon work time to a siesta. I don’t actually plan on drinking any of it, just using it as a threat.

I open the box. The one thing the LEGO people (not to be confused with the Martian clay people from Flash Gordon, or The Clay People band from Albany, New York) haven’t done is to give their pieces a mild aroma that could fill the room like fresh flowers. I take the initiative and spray lavender into the air. To avoid the unwanted, unproven, consequence of it acting as a sleep aid, I open the lid of the coffee container to allow its bouquet to counteract that possibility.

The instructions start with the Hubble Space Telescope, which can be displayed separately or carried by the shuttle as it was when launched into orbit by Discovery on April 24, 1990. Construction is a piece of cake, but a small affront to my sensibilities. The telescope employs something other than the classic bricks to represent the solar arrays that power it. This feels like a cheat, but not mine, so I forgive the Danes their transgression, and move on, right after a nap.