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