Hööshek and her family always kept their distance, and yet a story was put together one crumb at a time that added up to some kind of picture of what Grandma’s life had been like at her sister’s. Hööshek has long since died. It’s believed in all languages and among all peoples that one must never speak ill of the dead. Why is that? Is being dead a luxury for the select few to enjoy? Or a punishment for outcasts to atone themselves? No, it is the price we all must pay for having been here, for the miracle worked with our birth. Let us therefore follow the trail of what happened and stay in the shining light of truth.

Piece by piece, Grandma’s yurt and flock wandered into Hööshek’s possession. The good felt blankets were found to be much more useful covering the sister’s yurt than lying around unused and going to rot. This followed on the heels of Hööshek saying, Why put up two yurts if one has enough room for all of us?

So Grandma had to let her own yurt sit as a pile of bundles and had moved into her sister’s yurt. When the first of Grandma’s bundles was fished out of the pile, unwrapped, and its blanket taken, the word was, Just for now, until we’ve rolled new felt and sewn new blankets! But new felt was never rolled, and then more blankets were taken.

Meanwhile even the poorer pieces of felt were used as saddlecloths for mounts and pack animals. At first they were taken whole, as makeshift, on loan for a short time, but not long after, they were cut and sewn to measure. The same thing happened with the wooden scaffolding. The roof ribs were taken first. One after another they were put to different uses. And it did not take long before Hööshek took liberties and casually hacked one of the ribs to pieces and turned it into stakes. Stakes, after all, were needed.

Later, parts of Grandma’s lattice work, of her yurt’s walls, ended up in Hööshek’s yurt, replacing those of hers in need of repair.

Same with the animals. Hööshek now preferred to cover running expenses with lambs and kids, and at times even with mature sheep and goats, all from Grandma’s flock. Grandma’s were runts anyway, not as good as Hööshek’s flock. Better to keep one good flock, and one day Hööshek would replace Grandma’s animals. But not a single lamb was ever replaced. Nothing ever was.