The Second Saga: Part Nine

It was late morning by the time Oggin reached Bob Weaver’s front gate, just in time to meet his wife, Rob, coming back from The Village, laden with shopping bags.

“Good morning Rob...let me help you with those bags...”

“An’ good mornin’ ta you Oggin...I thank’e...these ‘ear bags do fair weigh I down...an’ tha’s the truth....”

Oggin took the bags from her hands and she opened the gate. Oggin noticed that it had been newly set on hinges and no longer needed to be lifted up to open and shut, Bob had been busy, Oggin thought to himself and he seemed to be settling in. Oggin followed her through the gate and waited while she shut it behind them, before letting her lead the way to the house. Bob himself appeared in the doorway and held up a hand in greeting when he saw Oggin.

“Welcome ‘ome wife and welcome to ‘e Oggin...is nice to see ‘e again....”

The two Weavers briefly hugged each other and then Rob disappeared inside, Oggin heard a shout.

“Bob an’ Bob....git yer’sells out ‘ere and tak the shoppin’ to the kitchen...come on boys...move yer sells...”

Two small boys, sort of miniature copies of their Father, shot out of the house, both wore huge grins. They grabbed the bags from Oggin and scampered back in the house, laughing as they went.

“Thas the two young’uns....daft begg’ers the pair of um they are too...”

“They seem like nice boys Bob...”

“Arr...they is...but don’e tell they I says so....” said Bob with a wink.

Two wooden armchairs had been placed on the veranda, to one side of the door and Bob gestured Oggin to sit in one, as he settled in the other. Oggin was surprised just how comfortable the seat was, it seemed to have been very carefully carved to accommodate the human bum and did so wonderfully. Before either could speak, Rob appeared with a couple of mugs of tea and passed one to each of them.

“Thanks Rob....that’s very kind...” said Oggin, gingerly turning the hot mug in his hands.

“Thas allroite...you enjoy un....oh...an’ come an’ see I a’fore you goes....I’da ‘ave a present for tha’ woman a’yours...”

She turned and went back into the house, leaving Oggin a little baffled but not worried. He turned to Bob and spoke.

“Bob...those two older boys of yours are a rare gift...they work like donkeys and have done an excellent bit of work....I went to do the ‘squaring off’ this morning and to be honest, I hardly had to do a thing...all the corners were true and the sides were cut straight as an arrow...”

“Thank’ee Oggin...I’is proud of me boys...mind you...I taught ‘em as all they knows.....” 

Both men laughed at the joke and then settled into a discussion about the rest of the job. Oggin said he would come for the lads on Mournedee morning and Bob suggested he would like to come as well. It seemed that the midden cover was almost complete and that Bob intended to have it finished by Stoppdee afternoon.

“Well...that’s a reasonable idea...” replied Oggin,”but how would we get it there...?”

“I’ll hitch up our donkey, “Bob junior” and bring un in the cart....do ya think we’d ‘ave un all done be dark....?”

“I think that’d would be a tall order to be honest Bob...even with your help but we’ll be finished by Ceconday I recon...thanks to those lads of yours...”

“The boys was after tellin’ me about tha woman as lives there....She’d a put the fear a’the Pixies up tha pair on ‘em so she did....”

“She is a strange woman Bob...that’s for sure...but I think she’ll fit in around these parts....just one more odd eccentric...to go with all the others.....”

Both laughed freely again and it struck Oggin that he was becoming firm friends with Bob Weaver and that was no bad thing. He stood to leave and then remembered Rob’s request to see him, so stood at the front door and called out to her. Rob came out of the kitchen holding a large earthen ware pot, Oggin recognized it as old Roman, what they called Samian. The outside was decorated with figures in relief and it had a sturdy lid.

“I’da be pleased if’n you’d give this to Kajoa for I....I found un today when wass searchin’ through the back roums...an I’da got two or three all’ready loike...we calls um crockity pots....”

“That’s very kind of you Rob...very kind indeed...I’m sure she’ll love it....”

Oggin bade the pair his goodbyes and set off for home, clutching the “crockity pot” and had gone as far as the green when something struck him about the decoration on the pot. He hadn’t really looked at it closely, all this old Samian pottery was richly decorated and was prized for that reason, plus of course, as it was glazed inside it could be used for the slow cooking so liked by Ogglanders, who loved their ‘ovenstews’ so much. No, there was something else about this pot, something else entirely, the reliefs around the pot were, well, rude. Naked people were engaged in various acts and as Oggin turned the pot to look, he thought some of these ‘acts’ were not physically possible. As the pot had been found in the former residence of Greedle the Bronze he was not surprised, a little shocked but not surprised.

Arriving home he went straight to the kitchen, expecting to find Kajoa as usual but there was no sign of her. He set the crockity pot on the table, poured himself a mug of tea and sat down. This was indeed a very fine example of old Roman earthenware and had never been used, the lid fitted to perfection but that decoration, oh dear, he wasn’t sure what Kajoa would make of that. Then the back door opened to reveal the woman herself, a shopping bag in each hand and look of fatigue on her face, she saw Oggin and spoke.

“Dain’t sit there like a diddy....gett yoursell ower here an’ grab dese baggys will ya....!”

Oggin sprang up to relive her of the bags and put them on the table.

“Iss dat yon pot fae Rob Weaver....?”

“Er..yes my dove chick....she said it was a present for you...”

“Aye...a’ ken that...I met up wi her at yon shop an’ she says she’d gie me a pot she hid tae spare like...”

“Well here it is my little cygnet....in all its glory....”

Kajoa crossed to the table and bent to look closer at the pot and slowly turned it, inspecting the reliefs.

“Thass braw an nae mistake...iss a wee bitty rude mind bu’ I like it right enough...iss tae good fur cookin’ in but it’ill mack a braw knick knack so it will byrway....”

Breathing a sigh of relief Oggin replied, “Sit you down my love and I’ll pour you a cup of tea...”

“Aye...you do that....and den wiel get on wie some wee jobs...an’ that....”