Empty Nest Poem: The Landlady and the Arborist

Imposing entrance. Photo image USF

The Landlady and the Arborist

I came home from leaving

my younger fair daughter

on the Lone Mountain

atop San Francisco

to the tree outside

my window

thinned

The titled two

had conspired

while I was looking

away at a bridge and

its tangerine promise 

of Gates stretching into 

a future of Tigers and fate

My people and memories

are gathered into papery

swaddled illusions to

unwrap and set up

in another and still

yet another high

perch

This

new rise is smaller

and befitting my heart

that quivers in air and dust

beating at sheafs and scatters

of mottled music and incense

ashes that she left in small traces

All of these were expected upon my return in the last night sighs 

of a drought ridden summer

but not in the darkness did

I foresee an awakening

to patches of sky

staring into my

room

My green canopy

now dissipated had 

swayed to me daily

that night would come

back and slip through the

panes that open to listening

stars and a watchfully setting moon

Bolts of blue tell me all is changed

by the sun now casting its beams

along what was blinded shade

pronouncing a new limned 

after from time traipsed

over and made into

Past

Matters

that no longer

matter are taken up

by the four directions of

careless winds and teasing

rains that failed for months to

pour and to drench and to soothe

The rosy dogwood points curled

brown with no suckle for bees

so now I must spring 

for a room of one's

own above tilting

evergreen

trees

                             -- © 2015 by Gilded Lily Press

Golden Gate Bridge by Night from courtesy commons

ORIGINS: Labor and deLivery Part 2

When we hear names without knowing their original meanings, they often hit our present-day ears like an arbitrary collection of letters and sounds that were simply thought up and agreed to, for unknown reasons. But these names referred to immediate realities surrounding these early people. They could see the natural feature that connected them all to the place. They knew the ancestor who settled there. Even if they were only servants to these families, they were known as being a part of that clan, with identifying dress and symbols, showing everyone to whom they belonged.

Pretty maids preparing for a row
Queen Elizabeth II's Ladies-in-Waiting at her coronation
photo image: Cecil Beaton

But something interesting happened with surnames at a point in British history. The part of the country that you came from, or the original family that your ancestors were attached to, was no longer the only moniker available. Instead, you could establish yourself with a formal company of craftsmen, traders, and their workers. Your identity no longer needed to come down from the past, in a long unbroken line of those hatched upon the same rock or from whose first fathers you sprang forth; but, rather, what you do.

Workers of the world were uniting in very specific ways, according to a formally registered list of “companies”, signifying who you spent your days laboring alongside. The primary company you kept was not your ancestral or social connections— those to whom you had sworn your life as your liege family with heraldic crests of symbols— but rather people who shared your training and skills. This seems like a very radical change, to go from “I’m the Carpenter, Madam” to “I’m Carpenter, Madam.” In return he would be called Master or Mister Carpenter. Perhaps this shift in self-titling may have set the stage for those who desperately wanted their identity to be rooted not in the past of land ownership and lineage, which was conferred onto them, but to take up a future holding in a contemporary collective of activity and production.

It must have seemed liberating and revolutionary to these early companies, with uniforms based on the outfitting of your livelihood, and not the uniform of your household station. You could learn a trade and distinguish yourself on a course that leads to being a Master of your work, and not of people. There is a curious mix of capitalism and socialism building in all of this. Workers associate under a common goal, yet the goal is not a social movement. The goal is capital, and the pride of the new crests and uniforms lies in the ability to earn it.

Example of a livery crest of arms from bowyers.com: The Worshipful Company of Bowyers established in 1488. The bowyer is shown wearing the black and white livery of this company. He is holding a "flote", also shown in a trio on the shield, invented to plane and smooth the bow staves. The bowman, holds the bow, representing the one who puts the product to use. The pointed stakes in the ground signify an ancient defense of fortresses planted by archers against cavalry attacks. Crecy, Poitiers and Agincourt are battles against the French, whose defeat was attributed to the early bowyers new and plenteous supply of longbows that had a superior range over shortbows. 

Here is a list of the various Liveries, as copied from Wikipedia (where else?):

Mercer-- merchant

Grocer-- spices (green grocer is vegetables)

Draper-- wool and cloth

Skinner-- fur trader

Taylor- tailors

Haberdasher-- clothiers

Vintner- wine

Barbers- surgeons and dentists

Cutlers- knife, sword, utensil makers

Chandler- wax candle makers

Armourer and Brasier-- armor and brass workers

Girdler- belt and girdle makers

Cordwainer- leather workers and shoemakers

Currier-- leather dresser and tanner

Founder-- metals casters and melters

Poulters-- poulterers

Cooper- barrel and cask makers

Tyler and Bricklayers-- Builder

Bowyer-- long-bow makers

Fletcher- arrow makers

Scrivener- court scribes and notaries public

Plaister- plasterers

Stationers- journalists and publishers

Broderers- embroiderers

Upholders- upholsterers

Turner- lathe operators

Glazier-- glass painters and glazers

Horner-- horn makers and plasticians

Farriers- horseshoe makers and horse veterinarians

Paviors- highway pavers

Loriners- equestrian bit, bridle and spur suppliers

Pattenmakers-- wooden shoe makers

Gold and Silver Wyre Drawers-- thread makers for military and society clothing

Carmen-- vehicle drivers

Hackney-- taxicab drivers

Waterman-- movers of goods and passengers on the river Thames

A scrivener at his desk, miniature in wood, 15th Century France

Here are more straightforward names, and some are commonly recognized as modern English:

Goldsmith

Salter

Dyer

Brewer

Leatherman

Pewterer

Baker

Butcher

Saddler

Carpenter

Painter

Plumber

Innholder

Cook

Blacksmith

Joiner and Ceiler- wood craftsmen

Weaver

Woolman

Fruiter

Basketmaker

Shipwright

Wheelwright

Glover

Gardener

Fanmaker

Farmer

Yet, now, when we look over the list, it can seem just as antiquated, and our history of nomenclature may be in need of liberation at some point, yet again. If someone’s last name is Weaver, I don’t assume that they have anything to do with weaving. They may dislike weaving intensely, and work on an oil rig, for all I know. If they did, then they would be a “wildcat”, and now we’ve circled back around to nature names, and gotten ourselves really confused.

So, in light of this confusion, I will share a verse from the Christian scriptures that I have found intriguing. It describes an experience of entering the Kingdom of Heaven and receiving  “a white stone, with a new name written upon it, known only to him who receives it.” (Rev 2:17). While part of me would love to know what sort of spiritual identity I would have in an alternate reality, part of me thinks that I would turn over this stone and see my mother’s smile when she called me at age five, “little monkey.” To which I drew a picture of her cooking at the stove with me behind her (very telling), and wrote above us in buddha-baby fashion, “A monkey is a monkey. A monkey can be a good monkey.” If the white stone says anything more lofty than that, I’m not sure I would believe it.

ORIGINS: Labor and deLivery

Family names are interesting because they can say everything about us, or nothing at all. When they say nothing, it’s usually because the meaning has been lost over time. While watching an English drama (Downton Abbey, quel surprise) that featured the importance of a servant’s livery, I realized that I had no idea what that term meant outside of a horse’s tack and bridle. So in looking up the word “livery” it led me to a new understanding of English surnames and where they originated.

“Livery” is derived from the Latin word “to deliver”. In the feudal system, the landowner was your master, and it was his responsibility to see to the welfare of the people who worked his land, defended it, and served in his household. The “delivery” according to the Oxford Dictionary was in the landlord’s “dispensing of food, provisions, and clothing” as well as an “allowance of provender” for his horse. As such, the people of a household wore a uniform to denote who their master was and what they did for him— to keep them apart, like teams. So when you see Shakespearean actors walking about in colorful leotards, there is an historical reason for it, and is not simply to provide more spectacle on stage. Your livery told everyone that your master saw to all of your needs including the clothes on your back, and what your role was in obedience to him, and that you were sworn to defend his honor when you went out into public. These are heavy responsibilities on both sides.

Tybalt, Romeo and Mercutio in garb separating them even in death
from Romeo & Juliet, Cape Town City Ballet, 1975

But before this time of formally delineated identities and allegiances, Old English family names often came from nature, in Gaelic, Welsh, or Celtic words that were not in the Romanized Brittanic lingua franca, and fell out of widespread use. The surnames identified a person as being part of a clan that came from a specific area. That area might have a prominent natural feature that became central to how others referred to this clan, such as a rocky outcropping or crag (Craig) or a clearing in a forest (ley) of ash trees (Ashley). If a group of people had generally sworn their allegiance to a local clan originated by a man with a red beard, then his appellation became theirs, regardless of their own hair color or gender. If they are a descendant from a leader named Donald (from the Gaelic, meaning “world ruler”), then they are a Mac or an O’ or a Donaldson.

Tartan from Clan MacBeth, meaning "son of life"

We’ll come back to these location, land formation, or ancestral origin names again. But since it is Labor Day, we will explore the names that refer to one’s work.

See Part 2