Anna’s excitement when she’d started cleaning the basement was contagious. Knowing her own limitations in the art of bargaining, Flo let Johan or Anna handle that part. If a German noble wanted a set of Flintstone jelly glasses to serve wine in, that was fine with Flo. Johan and Anna would make sure he paid very well for the privilege.
* * *
Johan had been a bit insulted when Flo had suggested watching the shearing video. “I know how to shear a sheep, Flo,” he’d objected. “Do you think I know nothing?”
“Johan, I’m sure you’ve sheared plenty of sheep in your lifetime. Have you ever done it with electric shears?” Flo had asked.
The mention of electric anything was a conversation stopper. His interest piqued, Johan joined Flo in front of the TV to view the video of New Zealand shepherds and shearers at work. They viewed it three times before he was confident of his ability to adapt.
* * *
Flo and Johan arrived at the shearing shed together. Johan checked the shears, turning them on and off until he was comfortable with the sound.
None of Flo’s ewes was especially rambunctious. They’d been sheared before, after all. Even so, Flo chose an especially mellow ewe for Johan’s first attempt at electric shearing.
Johan had paid serious attention to the video, Flo noticed. After a couple of nervous false starts, he began rolling the fleece off the ewe as though he’d been doing it all his life. Which he had, of course, now that Flo thought about it. The electric shears just made it go faster.
A couple of small nicks, easily treated, a check for foot rot, hoof trimming and worming and the ewe bounced away. Johan had very few problems, even with the unfamiliar shears, and they were finished very soon. Flo had sorted the fleeces as Johan had sheared. Even in coats, there was some dirt involved in the process and the heavy lanolin in the fleece made Flo feel greasy.
“Johan, we’ve both got things to do. If I don’t get a shower, I won’t be responsible for my temper.”
“Ja, Flo. I will check that meine Kinder have finished their work. Sheep, they seem well.” Johan seemed eager to get on with his other work.
“We’ll have to come up with a way to clean that fleece. I’ll think about it. Maybe the old wash boiler. My grandmother used to use it, along with that old wringer Anna found in the basement. I’ll need to check the rollers. I don’t remember if they were rubber or wood. It may come in handy. Never thought I’d have to use it. I just kept it, like that old glass churn my mother used to use. Sentimental value, then. Much more practical value now.” Flo grinned as she walked away. “Anyway, I can’t think when I feel like an oil slick. See you in a while.”
* * *
Standing in the shower, under the pounding hot water, Flo gave into the depression she’d been feeling all day. The delay in shearing the sheep had been caused by her last few weeks with Jennifer, before Jen had returned to school for the summer semester.
She knew she was lucky to have kept three of her children, but she missed Jen so much. She was Flo’s youngest, and the closest to her. The other girls had their own families and their own lives. Jen was still Flo’s. She’d encouraged her to buy the sheep, because she knew Flo needed something to care for. She missed her so much.
Flo forced herself to turn her thoughts away. Jen had always been self-sufficient. She would manage and succeed, even without Flo and J.D. Flo held that thought as she began drying off.
As she dressed, Flo noticed how soft her skin felt. She still had shampoo, bought on sale and stored, but there hadn’t been a good sale on bath soap. Her stock was low on that commodity. They were saving the gentle soaps for the babies, to keep them from skin irritations. The Ring of Fire had put paid to her usual practice of stocking up on soap.
“Wait a minute, soft skin, lye soap, lanolin-that’s the difference! The lanolin in the sheep fleece. We can’t just destroy it. There has to be a way to recover it and use it. Soap, lotion, didn’t I read something somewhere about surgery? I’ve got to do some research. Soap making, lotions, what else?” Flo threw her clothes on, ready to start another project.
She stopped and finished buttoning her shirt. “I’d better not go running out of here half dressed. The Schmidts could be here any minute. Coffee. I need coffee. I always think better with coffee.”
* * *
Naturally, they would get there while she was in the shower. In the middle of the day, yet! A little embarrassed, Flo extended her hand to greet Wilhelm and Ilsa Schmidt.
“We are pleased to be here,” said Wilhelm. “I know Johan und Anna well. We work well together. You will be pleased.”
“I’m happy to have all of you,” said Flo. “It may get a bit crowded, but we’ll manage. Wilhelm, Johan, I know you have things to talk about. Johan and I discussed our plans earlier, so I’ll let him explain. Ilsa, Anna, let’s go up and get the rooms arranged to suit you.”
As the three women and the children went upstairs, Flo heard Anna and Ilsa speaking rapid-fire German. Too rapid for her to understand, but apparently the room arrangement was settled before they hit the top step. Anna began directing traffic and Flo noticed that the boys were at one end of the hall and the girls at the other. Both sets of parents were in the middle. They were going to have to have a talk about what could and could not go down a toilet, she thought. Two bathrooms and fifteen people could be a nightmare on the septic system. She didn’t even want to think about what could happen when the toilet tissue ran out.
“Fifteen people,” she muttered to herself, “eleven of them children, me and J.D. Feeding this crew isn’t going to be a picnic either. It’s a good thing I did all that canning last year. And that sale on hamburger. Boy, am I glad I took advantage of that one. We need to do an inventory and some planning. Tonight, though, I wonder if this crew has ever had spaghetti? It’s easy for a crowd.”
Wrapped up in thoughts, plans and concerns, Flo left Anna and Ilsa to their arrangements and went down to the freezer. Spaghetti sauce for seventeen people would still take a lot of hamburger.
* * *
The spaghetti, salad and bread seemed to be a hit. At any rate, there wasn’t going to be a leftover problem in the Richards-Sprug-Schmidt household.
For once, being a packrat had paid off. Everyone had a few changes of clothes, although underwear was limited. The females had at least one pair of jeans or overalls for heavy work, although Anna and Ilsa appeared to prefer skirts. They’d get over that eventually, Flo thought. You couldn’t get her back into skirts with an act of Congress.
Clean-up proceeded rapidly. Older children helped the younger, everyone washed their own dishes and placed them in the drying racks. Flo had cooked, so she cleaned the pots and pans, and wiped down the counter and table. It looked like a system that would work.
The children, after a long, exciting day, were drooping in their chairs. All but the four oldest were sent up to bed, with orders to wash up and brush their teeth. The adults and near-adults sat up to discuss their plans for the following days.
“J.D., tomorrow is Sunday. I’ll be going to church. What are your plans?” Flo asked. It was an old arrangement. Flo attended the Methodist church when she could, averaging once or twice a month. J.D. did what J.D did. They’d found that arguing was not productive.
“I’m driving in around ten A.M. to see Mike and Willie Ray. If we’re careful, there’s no reason that everyone can’t fit into the truck and the truck bed. I know you don’t like kids in the truck bed, but Johan and Wilhelm can keep them in line. I’ll go slow. Will that suit everyone? We can meet around four in the afternoon and ride back home together.”
“Sounds like a pretty good plan to me, J.D. It’ll get everyone into town in time for the various services. Is it okay with the rest of you?” Flo asked the Sprugs and Schmidts.
With everyone in agreement, and everyone tired and yawning, they all retired to their rooms and slept.
* * *
“How does anybody wake up that energetic without coffee, especially at the crack of dark?” Flo wondered aloud, trying to hide a yawn.
The Sprugs and Schmidts were up, dressed, breakfasted and had the chores done before she had her eyes open good. “I sometimes think we up-timers are soft, especially on a morning like this.”
Flo had decided that it was time to introduce Anna and Ilsa to crock pots. Deciding on chili and corn bread for supper, she’d thawed more hamburger and was showing them how to set up the crock pots when Anna handed her a cup.
Taking a sip, her eyes widened. Coffee. Blessed, life-reviving coffee. Anna had apparently decided that Flo would need a cup or two and had made a pot for her.
Anna grinned, “I don’t know why you like that stuff, but I know you do. You will need to be awake. So, I made you a pot. We will not tell. Is our secret.”
“Not much of one, Flo. Do you think I could scrounge a cup?” asked J.D. from behind her.
Jumping, Flo turned around. “You devil, you knew all along, didn’t you?” she asked.
“The way you pack-rat? Of course I knew.” He said, “I just figured it made you happy to have that stash, so I let it alone. Don’t worry. I’m not going to give it away. I have enough to handle without you going through caffeine withdrawal on top of it. Besides, I need a cup now and then, myself.” J.D. moved over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. “More people than you know have a little stash of this or that. It makes them feel better and does no real harm. If it were antibiotics, it would be a different story.”
* * *
They arrived in town in good time for services. Everyone dispersed to their preferred church or meeting place, after making plans to meet that afternoon.
Flo felt peaceful as she sat through the service. It was so quiet and calm. Flo gazed around her and saw Irene Washaw and her son, Mac, with his family. She’d thought Mac had been in Charleston. How did they wind up on this side of the Ring of Fire?
After services, Flo approached Irene. “Irene, how wonderful that you have Mac and his family with you.”