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Our Story
My friends call me Bobin, as do my enemies I would have to assume. Bobin Toadfoot of Frogmorton would be my full name.
I have auburn hair, with freckles carefully spilt over my body. Anyplace the sun touches is sure to be kissed by freckles.
My eyes I would say are green, but perhaps they are much like the leaves in the tress, ever changing, with some of this and
some of that here and there.
Where I was born, still remains to be proven. In the fall of 43 three witchy sisters found me resting in a small basket
by a table in the local Pub. It seems the man I was with, the man I would call father, a local tax collector was about to
place me as his next wager when Lizabeth, the bravest of the sisters, stepped up and questioned the “booty” he
was putting up. The tax collector was no match to the three wicked sisters, so instead of arguing, he simply offered up the
basket, containing me, and directly passed out in his chair. The three sisters took me to there home deep in the dark woods
of Cheshire, and there they raised me. Each teaching me her own lessons, Janiebell the educator in strength and social behavior,
Lizabeth, the great protector and nurturer, and Katrine, the dark sister that could only teach of deception. I would spend
my first quarter of a century with this twisted trio, with little contact to any shire outside my dimly lit woods. The tax
collector? Oh he would return from time to time, but never for long stays, and usually only when he needed refuge from a bet
he could not win. And although it would be he I would address as father, no one was ever sure if indeed he was my father,
of if I had been given up to him as a settlement of taxes.
Today, my relationships with them? Well father, his money, or desire to accumulate money ate the core of him while the
alcohol washed the life out of him. We got word in the early 60’s that he had passed out gaming, and never woke again.
Janiebell, I keep close to my heart and still depend on spiritually when strength is not my strongest card. Lizabeth, although
quite upset when I made my voyage from home, can not fight her desire to nurture, and will always be deep in my soul. Katrine,
distort with my decision to view more of this globe, became engulfed in her own evilness and combusted leaving nothing but
black ash behind.
The day I took Ratman’s hand, the day I touched his soft lips and felt the closeness in his strong arms, that day,
would be the best day to have ever happened. And the worst, I smile when I say, I do not yet know. My refusals?…. I
refuse to discount faith. I refuse to shatter hope. I refuse to disrespect love. My fears?…..my greatest fear is that
which I do not know. Regrets? …. If every step I have taken has led me to this moment now, why would I have any? Bad
habits?…. Ha, none, if I felt my habits to be bad, I would not do them now would I? My daydreams, my daydreams are of
a peaceful shire where friends are bountiful, and joy runs ramped. My personal goal in this place and time, is to help retain
the magic in the tender eyes of popits. How would I spend my leisure time, I would find all time to be leisure, thus would
spend it living. I would think of me as a spiritual not a religious person. Believing in unity.
I adore most colors, but am partial to orange. The color that remains in ash when wind gently glides over the smoldering
fire. Food, is more of a means of survival than leisure to me, however mushrooms tempt my pallet each and every time. My pet
, Ratman of corse, but we also had to have a pussy cat to keep him in line.
So what about my horns, and tail, and other, miss hap parts. Well, you see the vile Katrine, had such distaste for me,
that when I decided to go out into the lands, she made her best attempt to cast upon me a spell, however, her magic only being
about half, instead of doing away with me, I suddenly grew some ridiculous part. Now of corse Janiebell and Lizabeth both
did their best to undo the evil doings, but every now and then, back one thing or another will appear, as if to be a reminder
of Katrine and what her nasty ways did for her. And, well, my tail, we never really quite even tried to wish gone, for who
doesn’t want a little tail?
Intent of keeping me in our encampment, Katrine would light a ring of fire encircling our home. Many a night I spent watching
that blazing fire, and many an early morn spent watching smoldering ash. I still believe to this day, the only reason Janiebell
and Lizabeth allowed the evil fire to rein was the invite it acted as, to souls that wondered those woods. It was not unusual
for a new friend to come, hungry, tired, and always with a story. So many kinds crossed me path that way, it was as if the
world came to me since I could not go to it. And the fire, I learned to love the fire. It was protection, and invitation,
and warmth. The fire would feed me, and dry my soaking body. It would become a good friend.
Now I shall tell you how I became Bobin Toadfoot of Frogmorton. As I stated earlier in the story, I was Bobin since a young
age. My trio of love never found it fit to place a Sir name on me. Prior my 25th year, one beautiful day, I was
out in the woods gathering kindling for the fire, when I caught sight of a man whistling in the trees. His sound so wondrous.
We acted almost as children, playing peak a boo between the trees, not wanting to be the one looking. When suddenly, a dark
cloud took control of the sky, and drops of rain started floating to the ground. The mystery man, wanting to help me, now
soaking, came forward, wrapped me in his cloak, and off we ran to my home, this stranger and me. I prepared him lunch, and
we sat and talked, making introductions, and beginning to learn each others lives. When I heard the mount of my aunts, I snuck
him out the back path. Oh how I longed to feel his arms around me, and I knew that he would return.. To my surprise, hours
later, there he was, with flowers from all over the country side. He left quickly as to not disturb my resting aunts, however
when Katrine saw the beauteous flowers, she was furious and lacked understanding. I was able to sneak out, the moon helping
guide the way to my lord of the lands all over. We would spend night after night talking, telling our stories, and in fact,
creating our own. After a short time, we no longer wanted to hide our lives. We decided it was time to move on in our relationship,
and on into the world. His sir name being Toadfoot of Frogmorton, and me having none, the only reasonable thing for a dame
to do, would be to take his name, and that I did.
Upon leaving, we found freedom. We were able to go from shire to shire, from woods to woods, to roam all the lands. That
is how we came about to have two young popits. One gray misty day, as my lord and I were enjoying a warm fire, we saw coming
our way, three small figures. Two small popits were being leash lead by the most vile snot snorting troll. Being one of the
“left behind”, I find that popits are a soft spot for me. I am not sure how he got the popits in the first place,
as when his path crossed that of our home in the woods, this creature was worse for ware and words were never exchanged. His
grunts and motions made no since, and as quickly as he had came, he was off again. Not once looking back at what he had left
us. A girl, having all of 6 years and a boy having all of 4, alone in the lands. We waited for days, caring for the popits,
and when the creature never returned, we decided to keep them as our own. They follow where we go, and have adjusted well
to our gentle life. The creature, well, he finds them every now and then, our paths will again cross, however he has come
to see that although blood may indeed be thicker than water, love, is thicker than blood. Our girl, GingerKat, has some fairy
in her I do believe, as I have seen her wings she hides so well. She is in that stage where deciding who she is meant to be
in this land is hard, finding an identity even harder. Our boy, Bodo, powers I know he doth have, thus I believe him to be
part wizard, and his love of the waters would leave me to believe a bit of pirate is in the lad.
After some years of wandering the lands, we have come now to Willy Nilly. Do to the Queens expected arrival, we were offered
jobs in a local boutique when we came to market. We have a fairy friend that watches over the popits while we come here. Although
sometimes, especially if it is a fairy ring weekend, we will bring them to the shire with us, and let them enjoy the sights
of the busy lands.
We have not been her long, and will stay only as long as the winds keep us, and then we will be off again, to wander.
One Year later:
Over the last year we have wondered to many quaint shires, filled with wonderful music and laughter.
The winter was a cold one, work hard to find. Once or twice we did visit one shire, that had warm fires burning outside
homes, and at times, while people stood around the bright fires, friendly fairy’s would bring baskets heaping with wondrous
foods, foods that would warm a body, and also a soul. Do not miss understand me, for as many kind blessings that could fly,
there were also horrible ogres, and even some discrumptal goblins. The creatures of this shire were searching for peace, searching
for common ground on which to stand. While there, we found that the leader of the dark force was nothing more than a small
dwarf, suffering from childhood memories, determined to destroy a village. We did hear, from some gypsies on the move, that
after many treaties, both sides were convinced that the best thing for all was to agree, or perhaps to agree to disagree,
and the dark side had been reasonable quiet ever since.
In early spring we were able to visit in a small shire, relatively near or home in Willy Nilly. We had heard that this
small town would soon be invaded by Vikings! We rushed to be there to witness such an invasion! We were in awe over the huge
vessel that brought those Viking in. And all thoe they were a rowdy group, we would learn more in our stay with them, than
many years could have given us. To our great surprise, we were welcomed also by many old friends, and found time to sit and
enjoy a tune or two by some minstrels very close to our hearts. It was with great remorse that the winds did change, and with
the change of the wind, soon follows, the change of the home.
T’was in early summer that we ventured to a large shire, one that would host one of the Queens finest educational
homes. They were in great celebration, and there was much to do about a recently widowed fine woman, that would need to choose
a hand to once again hold hers. You would be in disbelief how this one turned out as her husband, once thought to have been
killed at sea, returned to find his wife, courting another heart. No ailment, I assure you, that a fine pub sing, and a few
toasts could not cure. T’was also in this shire that I found Lizabeth! Oh she was filled with wondrous news of her new
found love, and ever ready to hear of my journeys. Along with her joyful news, came the heartbreaking news of the passing
of our Janiebell. Together we shed a tear, mended our hearts, and prayed for the soul that would now cross over from this
earth. Although we all knew Ratman and I would be moving on soon, we spent many an hour exchanging stories, reminiscing, and
enjoying our time together.
GingerKat, she has settled a bit over the year, time has been good to her. She is finding her wings, realizing some winds
are harder to fly in than others. Bodo, he has been practicing, or might I suggest, attempting, to learn, his magical ways,
but being a young boy, his energy is still very un-bottle-able and untrained. The dark lord has loomed, attempting to consume
our light, discontent with the glow of peaceful times. With each gleam of joy in our hearts, the dark lord, learns even more
about where it dare not go. For now, we are safe, with peace of mind and sanctuary, in the same shire we found ourselves in
just one year ago.
Once again, the Queen will be making her progression and visiting the small shire of Willy Nilly. We will do our part to
assure her a wondrous visit, with the finest of jewels hanging in the shop and the most talented hair wrappers in the lands.
We will great her with a curtseys and bows, and be part of the great spectacular she brings. Till we meet again, and I pray
we do, we’ll be on our way.
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