The summers were a sight better, for we moved--the lot of us--outdoors to my father's booleys. These were makeshift structures, long and narrow, and thatched with rushes, built new each year and set in the midst of our upland pastures amongst our herds. Aye, we lived with our animals, somethin' the English could never fathom. But it was a marvelous thing, livin' so close to the land with the very beasts that were so great a source of our wealth. 'Twas very green and the weather soft, and the booley house smelled of fresh rushes. The women would spin and weave. And sometimes we'd hunt with our hounds, or hawk with our falcons. There