Peddyr, the Woodsman's Son
Not too long ago I felt the need for company so set off to where I thought the next town was. Wandering along I smelt woodsmoke in the air. Following my nose I soon came across a clearing in the trees. There I behald a wondrous sight ..... A young woodsman with an impressive chopper! Blood stirred in regions I shouldn't mention so I made a bit of a racket and came into the clearing. I introduced myself with my cute smile etc etc (I am good at this). Soon we were sharing lunch and chatting like old friends.
Lunch was followed by some serious woodsmanship. We made a big hole in the pile to be cut up. It transpired that Peddyr's (that was his name) father had been called away to serve for the summer with the local Yeomanry. he wasn't due back until autumn so Peddyr had a lot of work to do. I helped him. We liked each other. We went for a swim or two. The prospects for a pleasant summer were good. I should explain that there weren't that many people making a living in the forest. Meeting a likely mate were slim to non existent for lads like Peddyr. We didn't waste the opportunity.
Our days soon became a rhythm of the forest. Breakfast, work, swim, eat, work , swim and relax. We were soon more than just friends.
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For those of you who might think I love them and leave them, well mostly I do. I was passing the same way some 15 years later and broke one of my rules - I went back. Peddyr was still there, father dead and buried years before. He was struggling to make a living on his own having never found his mate. I stayed. I stayed for the rest of his life. I loved him dearly and held him as he took his last breath. I left Peddyr in his bed, loaded the hut with wood ..... and torched it. I left in tears and cried for months. I still love him ..... always will. Happy memories now.
