Instructions for the Pruning of the East Wing

Epistolary

My dear, The East Wing has become untidy again. I noticed it during my walk to the library yesterday; the shadows are beginning to spill over the mahogany molding and bleed into the hallway. If left unchecked, they will stain the carpets, and you know how difficult it is to get those ink-colored smears out of the wool. First, prepare the brine. Use the heavy ceramic jug in the scullery. Three parts sea salt to one part distilled water. Do not use table salt; it lacks the necessary grit to bind the edges of the residue. Mop the floorboards with a coarse linen rag. You must work from the furthest corner back toward the door, otherwise, you will only push the grief further into the walls. Once the floors are damp, take the silver shears from the velvet case. Check the hinge for rust. If they stick, use a drop of linseed oil. The shears are not for cutting the air, but for clipping the physical fringes of the silhouettes. Focus on the heavy clusters near the portraits of your great-uncles. They tend to grow thicker around the ankles and wrists, forming those tedious, weeping knots. Clip firmly. Do not hesitate, or the shadow will simply stretch and recoil. You will feel a slight resistance, like cutting through wet velvet. Once you have trimmed the excess, gather the clippings into the brass bin. Do not leave them on the floor, as they attract the smaller, flickering spirits that make the lamps sputter. When you are finished, wipe the blades with a dry cloth. Leave the windows open for an hour to let the heaviness dissipate. It is a tedious chore, I know, but it is far better than spending a week scrubbing the ceilings. Your mother.