Bananaland: The beginning.

"Come down from that hammock, Cosmo" cried Grandmonkeymomma.
"You need to bring these bananas to Mrs. Steptoe or her children will have no cake for dessert."
Cosmo, still groggy from his midday nap, fell from the treetops to the floral laden patio by Granmonkeymomma. His dreams of ballplaying and vineswinging were dashed by social responsibility. His Nana, a pillar in his homeown of Bananaland, had the most productive garden of fruits and vegetables who's bounty she doled in the spirit of sharing.
"Sharing is caring and blenders are Waring" she was often fond of saying between her third and fourth bananadaiquirinis.
Cosmo swung the bananas by the Steptoe's treehouse for he knew that sharing was caring and no cake was unimaginable. The Steptoe's porch was already heavy with gifts. They had just had little baby Grace born to them and all of Bananaland was sending congratulations. Cosmo left the bundle between a jug of honey and come sweetsmelling muffins. Nature was cyclical, "we're pulled and pushed through it by our will and good three fingered grip doesn't hurt," says Nana. Grandmonkeymomma's lessons in life stuck with him as he grew. His parents toured in the showbusiness for many months at a time and the responsibility of taking care of him and his siblings fell to her.
Cosmo sped back to home as he knew there would be more chores before dinner. He would assist in them so that everyone could eat together at the big table in the garden. No one could eat until all chores were done was one of the first rules learned here. The garden spanned two vineswings across and four long. It could have been considered a farm if it weren't also a source of entertainments for the family. Cosmo and twinsister, Annelle would often be found cabbagebowling down the rows. They would be playing hide and go seek through the polebeans and appledodging the spinners thrown by older brother Quentin and his cronies, all the while Grandmonkeymomma had luncheons for her friends and their friends. It was a gathering place, it was a gathering time. Bananland. Bananaland. Just saying the word instills such peace. Bananaland.

Always remember, little monkeys, "Bananas from Nana are nourishing manna."