Nobby: Describing a person of wealth or high social position
The blade of my shovel barely penetrated the dry cracking earth beneath my feet. Pausing just for a minute I stretch my lower back by bending backward, careful not to lose my footing on the hill, as I stare up at the unforgiving sun dreaming of a nobby life. Unfortunately, back-breaking home-improvement work must be done with my own two hands when your bank account is as dry as the earth on a hot summer day. Therefore, today’s project is to get part of my yard ready for our chickens to roam free.
After my much-needed stretch, I remove my shirt and wipe my sweaty brow with an already sweat-soaked torn shirt. I look up to see my two youngest kids watch me work from their comforting window view like a nobby prince and princess watching their subjects toil at the ground. Unfortunately, for them, I am tired of forcing my spade into the earth.
I motion for them to join me outside to build up their character. “Thanks, kids, I really need your help. Emily, you get the shovel first and Timothy, I need you to help keep the big rocks clear.” With a couple of eye-rolls and exasperated sighs, my kiddos give me a much-needed break. After Emily takes a few practice scoops, I leave her to it and walk around the yard surveying the project.
“Dad!” Emily yells to me. “Look what Timothy and I found!”
I look up from the fields and see my subjects no longer working as I want them to and they are running to me with a shiny object in Emily’s hand. “What do you think it is dad?” Emily excitedly inquires.
“I’m not sure, let’s take a look.”
“I bet it belongs to the people who lived here before us.” Emily suggests.
“No, I say it is mine! I found it!” Timothy finally reaches us to make sure we know that he found the bracelet and therefore it is his.
“Now wait a minute Timothy, let me take a look at it first.” I accept the charm from Emily and examine it a little closer. The weather has obviously taken its toll, but after my quick observation, I see an old, hand-made name-tag bracelet that boasted an engraving that I could no longer read. “Oh, I know where this came from! And kids you won’t believe it!” I began to set the stage for my fictional story.
The Nobby story begins…
“Do you know what formed our little town?” I began to spin my fable as both kids shook their heads. “Look around kids, all this land around you didn’t always belong to our family. Before this land became wheat and garbanzo bean fields, nobby people ruled this area. Nobby people are like kings and queens. As a matter of fact, the house we live in was once occupied by the servants of the royalty that ruled this area.”
With their eyes wide and hanging on every word, I continued. “Yes, the family that lived here years ago was very similar to ours. If I remember correctly, a little girl named Katie who loved her horses, and a boy named Jimmy that wanted nothing but new adventures every day once lived here! One day, Katie’s father was out working their yard, much like I am today, and Katie came out to give him some water and show him her special gift.”
“Do you mean…” Emily gasped.
The past becomes the present
“Yes, that very bracelet you hold was Katie’s. Sadly, the family didn’t get away from the fields much, but Katie’s mother was very creative and could make just about anything with her hands. In this case, one time when her father was plowing, a blade of the plow broke off. Frustrated, he told his wife about the mishap. But instead of worrying about what they were to do next, she smiled at her husband and told him not to worry, she can make something special from the brokenness.”
“She made that didn’t she?” Timothy could hardly contain himself.
“Sure enough, she did. Because they were not nobby, she couldn’t just hire a blacksmith or even go into town. Working, not bardering, was their place in life. For months she labored on the plow blade; each day meticulously heating and shaping the metal. Finally, on Katie’s 8th birthday, her mother gave her the labor of love.”
“So sweet!” Emily smiled. “But how did it get in the ground?”
“Sorry kids, break time is over. That story will have to wait for another day. After all, we are not nobby either. Let’s get back to work.”
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