Now, the organization people were calling “The Grange” was in charge of those same heirloom plants. The members of the Grange had recently realized that the seeds from the hybrid plants common on farms and in gardens up-time wouldn’t produce the same plants in the next generation. Flo and J.D.’s stock of non-hybrid seeds had gained hugely in value.
Flo smirked. J.D. had tried for years to convince them, but very few up-timers would listen. It was easier to go to the store and buy seed every year. There were times she’d have liked to do it herself.
It was nice that J.D. had been vindicated. It had raised his status in the eyes of the local farmers and led to his being appointed as one of Willie Ray’s assistants. Who knew where that could lead?
Flo had been thrilled to turn the stock of seeds over to the Grange. Let someone else take charge of that project. She wouldn’t be stuck in the kitchen, canning all the produce this year, either. The lack of new canning lids in town was worrying, but she could reuse some old ones. Some of them would seal properly. Other methods of preservation were possible, also. Flo was sure they’d make it through the winter. Most of her crops, planted before the Ring of Fire, would be dedicated to seed for next year.
She did think Willie Ray was getting a bit high-handed, though. True, Flo would admit that he had a lot on his platter and she was glad she didn’t have his responsibilities. Still, she resented Willie Ray treating her like “Little Bo Peep” when she tried to talk to him about a better ram.
The Grange, Willie Ray, and J.D. were all focused on food production. Flo understood that this and the war were priorities. She hadn’t been able to get any of them to listen to her concerns about the sheep, though. “I need an ally. Maybe Johan will listen. He seemed to be interested when we spoke yesterday.”
Flo stood up, and rinsed the coffee cup. “I don’t think I’ll mention that last few cans of Folgers to anyone,” she murmured slyly. J.D. could be a little over generous on occasion. Flo would just keep that guilty little secret to herself.
* * *
It was about 2:00 P.M. before Johan, Anna and the kids arrived. Flo showed them to their rooms. She was pretty surprised when the entire family seemed prepared to move into the single room she had intended for Johan and Anna alone. After some effort, she finally convinced them to take two more bedrooms, one for the boys and one for the girls. There were two bathrooms up there, and two more bedrooms. Flo had originally intended for the family to use all the rooms, but they seemed dead set against it.
Melissa Mailey had been right, Flo thought, as she and Johan walked toward the sheep pasture. The privacy standards of seventeenth-century Germans were certainly different from the up-timers. She was glad their bedroom was on the first floor. The Sprugs could deal with the kids’ squabbles and she and J.D. wouldn’t even need to know about it.
Johan was leading the ram. Flo looked at it again and sighed. She was sure it was a good enough ram for this time and place. She was also sure she didn’t want the scraggly thing anywhere near her Merinos.
Time for a small demonstration, she decided.
Johan had some English. Flo’s German was limited, even though she was trying to improve it. She still hadn’t been able to explain the problem clearly. Her own German was limited, but she was trying to improve it. After coaxing one of the ewes to come near, Flo undid the ties of the coat that protected the precious wool. She watched as Johan’s face changed from confusion over the sheep coat to curiosity and then to sheer pleasure as he buried his hands in the luxurious wool.
“Do you see what I mean now, Johan? These are the only type C Delaine Merinos in the world. I’m not going to breed them to just any ram that’s available. Compared to these sheep, that ram of yours might as well be a brillo pad with legs. You can see the difference in the wool.
“Merino sheep were used to improve the wool of nearly every breed of sheep in the world. There’s no reason we can’t improve the sheep of Germany in the here and now, but my rams are too young to breed successfully. Spain has around three million Merino sheep. We need a better ram, one with some Merino blood. Do you understand now?”
Johan was smiling as he stood up. “Yes, Flo, I understand better now. We need a better ram, we must find a way to make them understand. We must not waste this chance. I help. We will convince Willie Ray. Must have better ram, must.”
Flo smiled. Finally, an ally. With Johan’s help and experience, maybe she could finally get a breeding program to improve the wool breeds, as well as the meat breeds.
“Fine, Johan, fine. I’m really glad to hear that. We’ll work on it together. Now, since you enjoyed that wool so much, let’s go look at the rabbits.”
“Rabbits? Vermin. Must get rid of , before they damage crops.” Johan appeared to be ready to go on a rabbit hunt that very moment.
“Not these rabbits, Johan. They’re not your average pest. Though I’m not sure how much use they are, to tell the truth. Come see.”
As they walked to the bunny barn, Flo continued to explain. “These are English angora rabbits, Johan. They couldn’t possibly survive in the wild. Their own wool would cause their deaths.”
“Rabbits do not grow wool, Flo.”
Flo grinned as they approached the first cage. “These rabbits do grow wool, Johan. They take a good bit of work, but their wool is very warm and soft. Take a look.”
Johan stood in stunned surprise as Flo took one of the does from her cage. The rabbit was covered with long, soft hair, which could be gently plucked from the rabbit without harm. As Flo demonstrated the technique, she continued to watch Johan’s face.
“So tell me, Johan,” she asked, “do you think there’s a market for this, too?”
* * *
“Flo,” said Anna, “I have question.”
“Sure, Anna, what’s up?” asked Flo as she watched Anna sit down. It was the first time Anna had ever sat in her presence without an invitation.
Flo had begun to wonder if Anna would ever get over the tendency to treat her as the lady of the manor. The constant deference had made Flo really uncomfortable for the first week or so. Finally, in desperation, she’d let Anna in on her secret vice, the hidden stash of Folgers coffee. That had sent Anna into fits of giggles and had seemed to even the ground between them. Anna had relaxed around Flo and had been opening up ever since.
“I have sister, Flo. Is married to Wilhelm Schmidt, five Kinder. Are in camp still. Is hard, so many Kinder. Maybe come here with us? All will work, und boys be help with sheep. Johan not want to ask, but Ilsa wants home again. We all work, Flo, und, und . . .”
Anna’s English had failed her, but Flo had the gist of it now.
“You don’t think five more kids will be too crowded, Anna?”
“Nein, nein. Is big beds, much, much room. We be fine. I want Ilsa close, und you and Johan keep boys busy. Truly, Flo, is goot.” Anna seemed very concerned that Flo might object, but as long as Anna was happy, Flo could be happy.
“Anna, it’s fine. As long as you don’t mind the crowding, I don’t mind them moving in. You already have the house in wonderful shape. I can’t imagine what the two of you will accomplish when Ilsa get here.”
Anna was a wonder, as far as Flo was concerned. Six kid, ages ranging from about fourteen to the baby, who looked to be about six months old, and all the kids toed the line far, far better than the average up-time child. Anna and Johan’s discipline seemed a bit harsh to Flo, but she wasn’t going to interfere. The kids would be starting school when it resumed; time enough for the up-time kids to try and ruin them then.
“How is search for ram going, Flo?” Anna was concerned because Johan was concerned. Flo knew that Johan and Anna had discussed the sheep project in detail. Anna, after a demonstration of the difference in wool softness, followed by a visit to Flo’s angora bunnies, had joined in enthusiastically. “Will we use Brillo, after all?”
Flo grinned at that question. Her undiplomatic remark had resulted in the nickname. Johan had later asked what a brillo pad was. Johan had proved to be a good-humored sort. After a demonstration of a brillo pad, he’d laughed uproariously. They’d all been calling the poor ram “Brillo” ever since.
Even J.D. had joined in the search for a ram, although with some reluctance. Flo had caught him giving her some thoughtful looks lately. Johan’s support had made a difference in J.D.’s attitude toward the sheep.
“Flo, Flo, are you in there?” Anna asked, grinning herself.
Flo jerked back to reality and smiled over at Anna. “Sorry, Anna, I got lost in my thoughts again.” She laughed. “We’ll use Brillo if we have to. He’s certainly a strong, hardy critter. If the Ring of Fire has thrown the sheep out of cycle, it will be good to have him around. Whatever we can do to spread the Merino strain will help. I’d still rather have a ram with some Merino blood, just for the wool quality. We still have some time before fall. Maybe someone will make it through the armies, yet.”
“Well, we all have things to do,” Anna said, “I’m going to clean the attics today. I will leave you to your own work. You will use the telephone, und call for Ilsa und Wilhelm? Today, Flo?”
“Yes, Anna, I’ll call right now. They’ll probably be here in a few hours. Do you need any help?” Flo always asked, and Anna always refused, just as she did today. Flo had begun to think that she just got in Anna’s way. She’d decided to stand aside and let Anna go at it. The woman was amazing. If those bozos down at the 250 Club had any idea what they were missing, Flo mused, they’d be standing in line, begging for German houseguests.
Flo called the administrators of the refugee camp and arranged for Wilhelm, Ilsa and their kids to be given the news and started on their way out to the farm. The administrators were very careful to get the right relations these days. A few mix-ups had caused them to get the original village name, before they asked for people by name. The names Johan and Anna were as common here as the names John and Ann had been up-time. No one wanted any more confusion.
“Well, a few more people won’t make that much difference here. I wonder what Wilhelm and Ilsa went through, getting to Grantville?”
The German population had amazing resilience. The war rolled over them, they grabbed what they could and started over. The war rolled over them again, and they started over again. When they reached Grantville, and were convinced of their relative safety, they dug in with a vengeance, determined to succeed and prosper. While many families had arrived with little more than the clothes on their backs, others had saved the most astounding things. A few chickens here, a ram or an ox there, a few family heirlooms, a few coins sewn into a child’s frock. They’d saved anything they could.
It was almost as amazing to Flo as the weird things that had value now. Who would have thought that things like jelly jars, coffee cans with plastic lids, even old mayo jars, could be so valuable?
Flo shook her head in wonder. She’d heard her parents’ rhyme-
Use it up, wear it out
Make it do or do without