01 My Early Home

The first place I can remember was a large wooden building, "Stables C". My family's stall had a large bed made of woven cotton tape pulled taut over a simple wooden frame using a wooden dowel much like a tourniquet; a thick quilted bag; the left wall was drawers from ceiling to floor my grandfather had carved small animals on the cabinetry and my sister had added flowers and lush leaves.

In the center of the cabinet was an altar with small carved statues, a wooden mouse and rose, a clay bird, a four-legged something,  and at the back a cross-stitch of a tree with an intricate border. The mouse was lifelike sitting on its back legs reaching up and yawning cutely, my grandfather was a rough man who you would never have imagined was so deft with his hands. The cross-stick was also beautiful and detailed but according to my mother was reworked many times over her mother's long life, unlike grandfather's mouse which materialized like magic in his practiced hands. Learning from him she made herself a rose and remade it annually, each with noticeable improvements. The creature next to it was apparently a dog made by her great-grandmother. Finally, my sister's bird, having learned clay works from her partner's mother and then had moved in with them as she was following their inheritance, not ours. We were wooden folks, of trees, not mud. We couldn't afford a kiln nor would we have the skills to operate such a thing.

When I was small I was often carried in a sling over my parent's backs. Outside stable C was a courtyard with a large well in the center, the courtyard consisted of Stables A, B, C, and the facility. My parents spent most of their time in either our unit in the facility, our stall, or in the courtyard if the weather was good. I had never been in stables A or B and there was also another courtyard with D, E, and F stable but I did not know or care for this at the time. 

Behind the courtyard was a small picturesque meadow and a pond of clear water. Some shady trees leaned over it and rushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end, at the right of the meadow was a grove of fir trees, and at the left a running brook overhung by a steep bank.

As soon as I was old enough to stand my mother used to go out to work in the daytime and come back in the evening. When it was hot, children would dip their feet into the pond splashing each other in the shade of the trees, and when it was cold we huddled around behind the kilns practicing or playing cards.

There were six children in the Stables beside me; they were older than I was; most with limited free time to run around instead of spending time helping their parents. But three of us were born the same year and only had to practice when the was someone to watch us. We had such great fun; making dens and around the field as fast as we could go. Sometimes we've been rather rough, for they would frequently tackle and punch as well as play.

One day, when there was a good deal of fighting, my mother called to me to come to her, and then she said:

"I wish you to pay attention to what I am going to say to you. The children who live here are very good, but they are from the other Stables, and of course, they have not learned manners. You have been well-bred and well-born; your grandfather's craft was known far and wide, having a great name in these parts; your grandmother had the sweetest lady I ever knew, and I think you have never seen me kick or punch. I hope you will grow up gentle and good, and never learn bad ways; do your work with goodwill, lift your heels up well when you walk, and never fight even in play."

I have never forgotten my mother's advice; I knew she was wise, and our master thought a great deal of her. Her name was Daisy but was often called Flower as although as hardy as a weed, her work was the most beautiful, most prized rose.

Our master was a good, kind man. He gave us good food, good lodging, and kind words; he spoke as kindly to us as he did not have his own children. We were all fond of him. When she saw him at the gate people would all go to him, and ask, and talk casually. He would say, "Well, Flower, and how is your little Mop?" I had thick unruly hair, so he called me Mop; then he would give me a piece of bread, which was very good, and sometimes he brought biscuits for my mother. All the workers would come to him, but I think us youngsters were his favorites. 

There was a cook, Rick, who sometimes came by the pond to pluck blackberries from the hedge. When he had eaten all he wanted he would have what he called fun, throwing them and stones at us to make us scamper. We did not much mind him, as we would just avoid him; but sometimes a stone would hit and hurt us.

One day he was at this game, and did not know that the master was nearby; but he was there, watching what was going on; over the hedge he jumped in a snap, and catching Rick by the arm, he gave him such a box on the ear as made him roar with the pain and surprise. As soon as we saw the master we scooched up nearer behind the trees to listen in.

"Bad boy!" he said, "bad boy!  Chase these poor kids. This is not the first time, nor the second, but it shall be the last. There—take your money and go home; I shall not want you on my land again." So we never saw Rick anymore. Old Daniel, the man who looked after us as our keeper, was just as gentle as our master, so we were well off.