Alford Tales -- When I was 5

Welcome dear reader.  Once again I sit here, listening to Margaret's voice in my head as I transcribe her words.  I do want you to know that I do not know how this ends.  Like some readers who can't stand the suspense and read the last chapter before they start the first, I enjoy the ride and in no hurry to get to the final answer of the burning question that she left us with in the introduction.

Having been around weavers, spinners, and dyers, I have a great appreciation for this tale.

So, sit back and enjoy.

"When I was 5"

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My Mama, may she rest peacefully, was named Nancy.  She was a small woman, hard-working just like everyone else, frugal but charitable, and read the Bible everyday.  Loved her children and looked out for us.  She may have been kind, but she expected each of us children to do our chores and could be meaner than a snake when stepped on.

One of my favorite memories of my Mama was when I was about 5. It would have been about 1778.  The war for our independence from the British often drew near to our farm.  I'll tell you other stories about those years.

At home, I remember Mama working with a pile of sheep's wool, that Pa and my brother Joseph had sheered. Made the sheep looked bare. I remember saying to Pa, Do those sheep feel cooler with all that wool gone?  He answered Do you feel cooler when you don't wear wool?  I said Yes 'um.  He said I suspect they feeler cooler too. Pa took the time to educate as much as he could in his own way.  Mama on the other hand said No time for play, got to get this wool washed and carded.

Joseph was sent off to fetch water.  Yolk on his shoulders and off the went. Cook's Creek wasn't far.  Lucky to be living near a creek.  Also had rainwater but used it for laundry and drinking.

We carded wool.  I learned to hold wood cards that Mama had made from teasels.  She had a fancy pair that she has gotten from her Mama as a wedding gift.  I never knew her.  She died when my Mama was a young woman, much like when my Pa died when I was young. Our hands were always soft from the wool. Mama said that there was something in it that would keep them that way.  Carding, carding, and carding.  I eventually taught Robert to do it whenever he wasn't working with Pa in the fields or barn.  We had a herd of sheep to tend to.  With Mama and John being weavers, we needed the wool. 

My Mama was a weaver like John, her second husband.  They had married because of that.  Mama worked wool, cotton, and flax into yarn and thread.  I learned from her and my older sister Eliza.  I was five when I first held knitting pins to learn to knit.  First to cast, then to knit and purl, and finally binding off.  I learned to garter stitch.  Mama said that garters would always be needed and would be easy for me to knit.  For several months I knitted brown garter after brown garter.  And after I complained for some time about brown,  Mama gave me green.  I like green as you can see from my green dress.  (She is wearing a beautiful green print cotton dress with a yellow posy pattern.)

I was old enough to learn to use the drop spindle.  I was constantly frustrated as the wool pulled apart before I could get a it spinning. And the spindle hit the floor. Robert wasn't much help. Younger brothers!  Robert was only two.  And Henry but a baby.  Eventually Sarah would join us.  Poor mother.  Having to welcome Sarah into the world as a widow.  Sarah only knew John as her father.

As I was saying, I learned to spin and knt wool when I was about 5.  It would take sometime but I soon learned to use the great wheel.  Spinning up to several skeins a day.  Mama eventually taught me to dye. Madder, woad, weld, and some indigo.  How my hands were blue.  Cochineal was too expensive for us at the time, but Mama would trade for some.   We would have red mittens for winter.  One time, Mama had enough to knit a red tippet.  She wore it only on special occasions. Eventually gave it to my sister Eliza as a wedding present when she married John Boon. 

Felix Gilbert had a store near Peale's Cross Roads.  John and Mama often went there with their woven coverlets and would trade for other goods.  Mama would get us cotton material for a new dress or two.  One time when I was older about 8, I went with them.  I remember fine linens, calicoes, prints, silks.  I remember my first piece of silk that I made into a handkerchief.  Kept it in my box on the chest of drawers. It was then that I first meet my friend Betsy. She was also 8 and her family had bought land bout two miles from us. But more about her later.

When I was 5, was when I learned much of my skills to knit, spin, weave.  Nowadays, here in 1836, I can get just about anything for trade at the store.  But let's end this with this tale.

It was summer.  I was five.  I walked to the creek to wade. It was warm.  I could see my Pa and Joseph working on the fence that snaked along our land.  As I waded along the bank in the cool water, I could see fish.  One time I saw a snake.  Didn't like them.  Still don't.  I remember listening to flowing water and the sun reflecting off it.  I was playing with some sticks, floating them like boats on the water.  I didn't really notice that I was being watched until I looked up.  And there he was.  A boy no bigger than me.  Peering between the branches on a tree.  I almost didn't notice him until he moved.  He was dark skinned. Crouching down. Just watching. He was an Indian.  At the time, I knew that they lived near, but I had never seen one.  Only heard about them.  And there he was.  I was shy but I waved and he stood up and he came down to the bank on the other side of the creek.  I picked up my sticks floating and said Boats.  I remember I put them back in the water and push them around.  He grinned watching me.  He picked a few leaves and put them on the water to watch them float.  Pushing them further out to the middle of the creek, they sped along.  A race. We raced leaves and sticks.  He would be my friend by the creek for sometime.  Until one day he didn't come.