Dienstag, 3. März 2015

Morningland and Lapis lazuli


Last week I wrote about my grandparents.
Here is a memory story of my early childhood.
To this time grandma could see still a little.
And she has been working many by feeling.
Both have been working in her workshop all their lifetime, 
 he was a goldsmith, she made enamel.

***

The child was still small but it knew the way exactly . 
 Up the hill and along under the trees .
 Already there saw the familiar roof.
 To enter the old house was like a different world . 
There was one workshop in the basement and one top of the house. 
Peculiar smells of shellac , technically alcohol and many others. 
The stairs to the attic went around the corner and there was a tiny door. Behind there lived the "Klabauterman", had told her grandfather.
 The door was rarely opened. 
Also the walls had doors to chambers and cabinets.
 Everything was mysterious and interesting.

The child loved his grandfather very much. 
But it was also a kind of distanced love.
 Quiet the child came to the door and saw him sitting.
 At his workbench in front of the window.
 Carefully sneak closer , just do not abut him.
 He made very fine work, and often he did not even hear the child.
 But there were always moments when he called it zoom.
 Showed him what he was doing. 
Tiny beads of gold and precious stones. 
The child was particularly fond of the blue. 
 Lapis lazuli . 
Stones with flecks of gold.
 In the corner of sheet metal and wire was rolled . 
They turned together the crank . Heavy .
 Grandfather cut the agate and the child watched. 
Or he developed photos and it was quite dark. 

Sometimes the grandmother stood up from her work 
and went into the kitchen. 
They toasted sugar with butter in a pan and made 
hot caramel - milk from it. 
They drank from cups of similar color, with a blue and brown pattern . 
The child said camel milk. 
And she crept under the camel hair blankets.
 Familiar soft colors and everything was put in order and had his time. 
The child dreamed of caravans. 
With camels the blue and turquoise stones 
were brought from the Morningland.*
Morningland - that sounded like awakening. 
The voice of the grandfather mingled with strange music.
 Secure in the Eveningland* the child fell asleep.
Under camelhair and blue. 


This photo grandpa took of me at the age of 5 years.

*Morningland and Eveningland are German synonyms for Orient and Okzident.
I do not know if these terms are used also in English, but I wrote this literally translation, because it is in the sense of the story.


By the way: I still have three of the old cups.
 I don't use them, they are to precious with all the memories. 

 

Re-bloggt from an old post for Wednesday Wit and Wisdom and Monday Writes
Shared with Roses of Inspiration, Thursday Little Things

Kommentare:

  1. What a lovely photo and surely a treasure.

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  2. Such a lovely photo, lovely memories too. xx

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  3. Liebe Mascha...du beschreibst es so schön, dass man das Gefühl bekommt bei deinen Erinnerungen dabei zu sein. Es muss wirklich etwas besonderes gewesen sein Grosseltern zu haben die solche speziellen Berufe ausübten und grade früher mit den kleinen Werkstätten. Der Lapislazuli-Stein ist ein wunderschöner Stein. Der hat mir als ich ihn zum ersten Mal gesehen habe sofort sehr gefallen.
    Danke für`s mitnehmen in deine Erinnerung. Schön auch dich als 5 Jährige sehen zu dürfen.

    Einen schönen Tag!

    Liebe Grüessli
    Julia

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  4. Such precious memories, dear Mascha....memories that will live on forever in your mind and heart :) I think it is wonderful that you still have a few tea cups to enjoy and remember days gone by...

    Thank you for sharing this lovely post with us at Roses of Inspiration. Hugs to you!

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  5. Mascha, thanks for linking in your story. You do such a great job of writing!

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  6. Beautiful story, I really was able to imagine what you write about - your words transferred me to your past! You look so adorable on the photo. The tea cups are wonderful, such a treasure! xxx

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  7. what beautiful memories. nice to have something tangible still. x

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  8. Beautiful poem. So very visual...it was like being there!!! Thank you!

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  9. You are an adorable child! Great post!

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  10. I can see from the photo that you were a sweet and sensitive child. You probably made stories as soon as you could talk.

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