Blather

Once upon a time, a long, long, l-o-n-g time ago, there was a little boy named “Bube.” He was a happy, secure, little boy. He had long hair, some of which was brownish, some of which was blondish. You know the color, right? At the time of the story I’m going to tell you, Bube had lost a couple of teeth and one of them had grown in, but the other had not. You know that children usually lose the two bottom teeth first, then the two top teeth, then others, don’t you? So you can guess Bube’s age by knowing that he’d lost the two lower teeth and only one had reappeared. One more hint about his age: he was too tall to walk under the kitchen table any more.

Bube was big enough to know what was right and what was wrong, but not really old enough to always know about a new situation. He knew he shouldn’t play with knives and fire, but he hadn’t yet learned about a lot of other things. He could dress himself, mostly. He could put on his own socks but didn’t always know which shoe went on which foot. You know about these things that small children have to learn, don’t you?

Bube lived in a house with one large room downstairs and three smaller rooms upstairs. At one end of the upstairs part of the house, his parents had their bedroom. At the other end, his sister had one room and Bube and his big brother shared the other room. The rooms were cozy. This is a word some people use when the don’t want to say “small.” But in this case, “cozy” means that the house felt comfortable to everyone in it. Even Bube could find his way around in the dark.

His parents’ bed was big, soft and comfortable. Bube liked to snuggle between his parents whenever he could, because it felt good to be close to them. His big brother and his sister played with him, but they were older, and you know how older siblings can be, don’t you?

Even though they had their own interests, these two older children loved Bube a lot and always made sure he was comfortable. They understood the phrase “In loco parentis.” Do you know what this phrase means? Well, dear reader, this is from Latin, and means, “In place of the parents.” Bube’s siblings knew a lot about parenting, because Bube’s mom and dad had parented them very intensely and because they got to do some parenting of their own with Bube.

One day, when Bube was learning to count, his dad asked, “How many eyes do you have?”

Bube answered, “Two.”

Then he asked, “How many noses do you have?”

And Bube answered, “One.” At this point, Bube dad thought Bube understood how numbers referred to things. Then he asked one more question.

“How many parents do you have?”

“Four.”

This got Bube’s dad’s attention. “What! How many parents?”

“Four, I said.” Bube knew his own mind, even if he was young.

“Who are they?”

“You, mommy, my brother and my sister.”

Bube’s dad laughed. “Oh, so they’re your parents, too, eh? O well, I guess I can see how you might think so. They’re big, they love you, and they take care of you.”

Bube’s parents spent a lot of time taking care of the house and working to earn money for things they needed - food, tools, books - things they could neither grow at home nor make for themselves. But they also spent time playing with him, talking to him, telling him things he needed to know as he got older. That’s what parents are for, don’t you think so?

One day, Bube’s mom showed him how to make cookie dough: flour, eggs, shortening, brown sugar, and a bit of vanilla extract. Then Bube’s dad took an unbaked cookie, winking at Bube to keep silent. Bube giggled and that made his mom turn around. “Hey! What are you doing?” she demanded.

Bube’s dad gave her a hug. “Um, I’m just seeing if the cookies are going to be any good, ” he said lamely.

Bube’s mom squirmed, but laughed. “If you don’t stop eating the dough, there won’t be any cookies!”

Then Bube picked off a small piece of cookie dough and put it in his mouth. His mother saw this, nodded to his father, and rolled her eyes. “See what you started?”

“OK, OK. Want me to take him off your hands?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve got to keep an eye on the oven. Go ahead.”

So Bube’s dad took him outside. He took Bube’s hand and went to sit on a bench outside the house. The afternoon sun kept them warm, and they sat quietly for a bit. Then Bube started getting antsy. You know what this feeling is for little boys, don’t you?

His dad knew what antsy boys need, so he got a small, squishy ball and started to play catch with him. His dad tossed the ball to him.

When Bube dropped the squishy ball, his dad said, “Oh, that was pretty close.”

When he caught the ball, his dad said, “Great catch, kid!”

Though he had some trouble catching the ball, Bube was pretty good at throwing the ball. He could throw with either hand, but he liked to throw with his right hand.

Bube got a funny idea- he had his dad running around, because he threw the ball over his head. This made his dad run to pick up the ball. Bube thought that was funny. Do you think that’s funny? Do you think you might play this trick on your dad? I hope not.

As they played catch, Bube got better and better at catching the ball. He could follow the ball with his eyes and guess, very quickly, where the ball was going to be and then make sure he was able to scoop it up with his hands.

This was a very pleasant time of the afternoon. The sun was low, and the trees near Bube’s house made some shade for them. The breeze kept them from getting too warm. The birds were almost quiet. The ground was smooth where they played. If the ball hit the ground, it didn’t roll too far because the ball was soft.

Bube didn’t get tired of playing catch, even after he thought he knew how to catch the ball pretty well. Part of the fun was being able to catch the ball and part of the fun was in playing with his dad. Bube loved his dad.

Bube’s dad told him that he had made a particularly difficult catch and he gave Bube a big hug. Bube laughed when his dad picked him up. Then his dad put Bube on his shoulders and tossed the ball straight up in the air. Bube tried to catch the ball. If he missed, his dad could catch it. When his dad didn’t catch the ball, he groaned because had to bend down and pick it up with Bube on his shoulders. This made a sort of up-and-down ride for Bube. This was a teeny bit scary, but it was also fun.

After they played for awhile, they went inside. Bube’s mom and sister made a very tasty dinner, after which they sat around the fireplace full of logs which Bube’s brother had chopped. Playing catch had tired out both Bube and his dad. They both yawned during dinner and dozed in front of the fire until Bube’s big brother picked him up and took him to bed. His dad made it to bed by himself. They all slept well that night. Oh, this story is making me sleepy! What about you, dear reader?

One morning, when the weather was still warm, though not as hot as the hottest part of Summer, Bube and his dad took a trip. Bube and his dad traveled on a horse. The sun was low on the horizon when they arrived at a city where there were lots of people. Some were dressed like Bube and his dad- pants, shirt, a jacket, and shoes. Some were dressed in nicer clothes and wore a sword. Others were dressed in styles Bube hadn’t seen before- they wore black pants and jackets or they wore brightly colored scarves and long skirts. Bube and his dad got down and walked the horse.

Bube saw a group of women, some of whom covered their faces, but most didn’t. One of the younger ladies saw him and smiled. She found a pocket somewhere in her dress and pulled out a pear. It was small and round, rather than pear-shaped and had a definite red color at the bottom. She offered it to Bube. His father said to him, quietly, “Take it with both hands from underneath.” So Bube put out two hands and took the pear which looked like both a pear and an apple. He told the lady, “Thank you” in his most polite voice. Then he looked a bit closer at her face. She had freckles and light brown hair, but she spoke a language he didn’t know. Her friend had dark brown hair and a round face with high cheekbones. The girl with freckles said something to him that he didn't understand, but his dad said that she was telling him he was a good boy.

Bube had some berries in a little wooden box that his dad had carved. His brother made the strap so Bube could wear the box over his shoulder. He opened the box and offered the berries to her. They were large, sweet blackberries that grew near his house. She lowered herself to look in his eyes. He saw that her dress was made for warm weather and wondered, just for a moment, if she also had a coat for when the winds got cold. He also saw that the sun had tanned her arms. As she got a little closer, she smelled nice. She took his wrist in one soft hand and turned the box over until a few berries rolled out into her other hand. Then she picked one berry and popped it into her mouth. She grinned as she tasted the berry’s flavor. She gave a couple of berries to her friend, who also enjoyed the berries Bube had picked. Then she bent down and smiled at him, a few of her top teeth pressing her lower lip. The sun made her hair blowing around her face look like a halo. Bube didn’t know what to say. He just looked. Then she squeezed his arm gently and stood up.

Bube took a bite of the pear and found that it was very sweet. As they walked away, he could hear the ladies laughing in that far-away language. But for the moment, he only thought about putting one foot in front of the other and chewing on his pear.

Bube’s dad soon found a road leading out of town. Very close to the city, they saw a small house, a field, a couple of horses, and a large, well-constructed barn next to a large oak tree. Going into the yard, Bube’s dad called out, “Vincent!”

“In back of the barn!” came the reply.

They walked around back. On a large table, a man with dividers was measuring distances on a large sheet of paper. He put down the dividers and sat on a bench next to a smaller table. You know what “dividers” are, don’t you? They’re little pointy things that you can set for a particular distance, then you can use them to measure the same distance on another place. On the table were a pottery jug and glasses. “Have some water. Who’s your friend?”

Bube’s dad sat down, poured a glass of water, and said, “Thanks Vincent. And you know this young man already. He’s my son.” Turning to Bube, he said, “Bube, say hello to your uncle. He hasn’t seen you since you were a baby.”

Vincent walked over and shook Bube’s hand, then gave him a hug. Vincent smelled like tobacco. But he was nice, and after the hug, he shook hands with Bube’s dad. He said, “It’s really great to see you. And look at Bube- he’s getting so big!”

Bube’s dad smiled, and put Bube on his lap. “Yes, he is getting big, isn’t he? But I see you’re working on a drawing. What are you going to make?”

Vincent pointed to the drawing. “This is going to be a forge. See, here’s the anvil, here’s the bellows, and here’s the fire.

Bube asked, “What’s a forge?”

His dad said, “It’s a place where you can make things from iron and steel. Simple things like nails, brackets, and hinges, and more difficult things like knives, axes, plows, even springs.”

Vincent added, “It takes a while to get good at using tools, then once you learn how, you’re never done with learning new things because you try things you haven’t done before.”

“Can you show me how to make something on a forge?” asked Bube.

Vincent and Bube’s dad looked at each other. Then Vincent said, “Well, I have some coal and some steel in my old forge. Maybe we could make some nails tomorrow.”

“That’s great!” exclaimed Bube’s dad. “I need some nails for my workshop.” He sat back and smiled. Bube could see his dad imagining all the things he could do with a bag of nails.

They sat outside for awhile longer, then they went inside. Vincent’s family made room for them around the table. Bube’s dad told Vincent’s family about Bube’s mom, brother, and sister. They asked him to bring back some stories to Bube’s mom, brother, and sister. Bube talked about his berries and his mother’s cookies. After dinner, they talked about the next day but, because they didn’t have lights like we have now, they didn’t talk for too long. Pretty soon the whole house was quiet. Everyone dreamed. Bube’s dad dreamed about nails. Vincent dreamed about making another forge, but that’s another story. In his mind, Bube tasted small, reddish, sweet pears; he saw happy young ladies with freckles and he heard words in another language. He had happy dreams.