The sky is pink in the east like a carpet in honor for the king of the day to arrive. It looks chilly out, though I have yet to step foot into the morning air. No clouds are to be seen in the sky and earlier the moon was a smile in the dark heavens. Hmm, I don't usually write like this in the mornings. Maybe it was the concert I went to last night. It was a 9-voice mens group. They were good and it was fun to listen to them. One song they sung in Norwegian was about a cat that traveled to Denmark to escape the cold. :) During the song, one of the men pretended to be the cat and meowed during it and washed his face and shivered with cold. :) The other song that got some laughs was the next to the last one. It was a song the Beetles wrote, only they gave us a history of music in 2 1/2 minutes. That is they started the song as a Gregorian chant, moved it through baroque, into the era of glee club singing, to barbershop quartet and into modern. The song was called "I want to hold your hand." Imagine those words in a Gregorian chant! :) It brought some laughs.
I started teaching writing class on Wednesday. I'm glad to get back into it. I really enjoy teaching. Only I just have three students this time. :(
I have worked on writing quite a bit this week. I'm trying to keep up with Priscilla De Silvosa's letters, work on Triple Creek Ranch (since some people have been asking for it), figuring out and writing more of "Ria and the Gang" and I even managed to work some on another story that I started two years ago and never posted more than the first two parts. I also have short stories that need written.
The other thing I've been doing is working on cataloging our 5,610 books. :) It is taking awhile. :} I think we have 1,524 done. Anyone want to come help?
Well, I hope you all enjoyed the games I posted last week. From your comments I think you did. I ended up with two Experts, one Acquaintance and many Friends. :) I think is pretty good for all the stories I've written and posted. Maybe next year I'll do something like that again and you can see if you can improve your standing. :)
But now I have delayed enough. I'll let you read Triple Creek Ranch. I'm not promising to post it next week, but I'm saying I won't either.
“Jenelle,” Norman paused as he was about to rise from the breakfast table the following morning, “I feel like a shirker leaving you here alone with my sister again. If I didn’t have so much to do . . .”
Mrs. Mavrich smiled up at her husband’s troubled face. “You are not shirking, Dear,” she told him. “You have work that must be done and perhaps Orlena and I can get better acquainted.” She almost added, “If you are not here,” but said instead, “Her trunk still needs unpacked. Do you suppose she has anything to wear that is at all suitable for life here?”
Raising his eyebrows Norman shrugged. “You’re asking me? I have no idea what she has except that awful black thing she had on yesterday. What did she wear after her encounter with the skunk?”
At that Jenelle burst into a merry laugh. “Oh, go along with you to the fields. You’re about as much help as the dog,” and she laughed some more though her face grew sober as the door shut behind Norman. Did Orlena have anything suitable to wear?
All the time she was clearing away the dishes and doing her morning chores, Jenelle puzzled and pondered over the problem of Orlena’s wardrobe. “I really don’t think she has anything,” she murmured. “I’ll have to get to work. I wonder if she would like to go into town with me tomorrow and pick out some material?”
Footsteps were heard and Jenelle turned brightly with a cheery greeting for her young sister. Orlena barely acknowledged it with a slight inclination of the head and remained silent.
Ignoring the silence, Jenelle spoke cordially, completely leaving the previous evening in the past. “You must be hungry,” she began. “I’ve already finished my chores so I’ll join you at the table.” She carried in Orlena’s breakfast and set it before her. “I thought today would be a good day to unpack your truck. That way Norman can carry it to the attic this evening and you will be all settled in. Perhaps tomorrow you would like to go into town with me to do some shopping. You know,” she went on, seemingly oblivious to the silence of the girl across from her, “I think I’ll enjoy having another woman about the house. Sometimes I get rather lonesome. Do you enjoy sewing?”
“What kind of sewing?” Orlena asked warily.
“Making clothes and mending.”
Orlena looked disgusted. “That is what you pay seamstresses for, or didn’t you know that?”
“Yes,” Jenelle conceded, ignoring the tone of the girl opposite her, “but I would hope they loved their work, wouldn’t you? It always makes it much more enjoyable.”
“I embroider,” Orlena said suddenly.
Jenelle looked interested at once. “That must be delightful work. I’ve tried it once, but I snarled it up so badly that I couldn’t fix it. Since then I’ve stuck with plain sewing.”
Orlena didn’t volunteer the fact that her only attempt to embroider anything was a handkerchief and the red and yellow flowers ended up looking like the flames of a fire more than anything else.
“Now,” Jenelle began briskly as Orlena finished her last bite. “Would you rather wipe off the table and sweep the floor or wash up these few dishes?” The question was asked so matter-of-factly, as though Jenelle asked that sort of question everyday and had no thought of either option being a chore, that no one would have guessed just how quickly her heart was beating nor that she braced herself for an explosion.
For a moment Orlena stared at her and then, in a haughty voice replied, “That is work for the servants.”
“I don’t have any servants. This is such a small house and there really isn’t much to do that if I had a servant, she would run out of things to do long before the day was done. And what about me?” here she paused to laugh. “Why, I’d have nothing to do.”
For answer, Orlena gave a sniff and rose from the table.
“Orlena,” Jenelle’s soft voice halted her young sister. “Would you like help unpacking your trunk?”
“Well, I’m certainly not doing it,” was the curt reply before Orlena swept out of the room and up the stairs.
“Well!” Jenelle blinked. “That’s that. I mustn’t push her too much yet. I’ll let her grow more used to things around her. Poor child!” She had been busy as she talked to herself, brushing the few crumbs off the table and washing the plate, cup and utensils. After a quick glance at the floor, Jenelle decided it really didn’t need swept.
Up in her room, Orlena waited for Jenelle’s coming. Her feelings were mixed. The unpacking of her trunk meant that she would be staying at the ranch at least until school started, while if it remained unpacked, there was always the possibility of Norman sending her back to the city. Seating herself in the chair, Orlena tapped her foot. One thing was certain, she would not unpack a thing. Perhaps the sight of all her fine dresses would impress her brother’s country wife.
The kitchen was hot, and Jenelle pushed back her damp hair from her face. She was tired. Supper would be ready soon, Norman was expected any minute and the table wasn’t yet set. “I wish I could ask Orlena to set it for me,” she sighed reaching into the cupboard for the plates.
“What was that you were muttering about?” a voice asked behind her and a strong arm turned her around.
“Oh, Norman,” Jenelle gave a start and almost dropped a plate. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Quickly catching the plate and setting it on the counter, Norman smiled. “So I noticed.” And bending his head he kissed the ruby lips before him. “You were talking to yourself again.”
“I do that quite often,” she retorted, laughing a little and turning to get the other plates and to hide her hot face.
Any questions or comments about this part?