I had asked my father to help me.. only because I wanted this perfect for Tarra. she had been such a help to me.. I wanted this perfect.. So he and I found two hides.. both light colored.. so they could be dyed.. We scraped and scraped until it was just a thin leather hide.. both pieces.. My father and I sang as we work.. and laughed.. He somehow knew what I needed.. and kept my mind on the task at hand.. Once we got both pieces to the exact size.. then we began to dye them.. Using a red powder.. I dipped my wet rag into it and began to slowly move it across the hide.. My father stood back and watched.. Each stoke I took the dye sunk into the thin hide.. for hours I worked the one piece until it was a blood red.. The concentration on her brow was one of a person bent on completing a task to perfection..
I stood up.. and we both lifted the hide for it to dry.. Not was not too wer.. but enough so the dye would set..
Now for the other piece.. the red put away.. as I took the small bowl of burnt dye.. it was black.. blacker than anything she had ever seen.. and once again.. she slowly moved the color over the hide until it was covered and done.. Again her father helped her hang it to dry.. The first step was now done... She smile as she was pleased with her work.. Her father nodded his head.. I am not sure what exactly you are doing Yamka.. but I can see your soul in your work..
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