Monday, fully rested, butt sore;)

 Hub's cooked yesterday and found out we are out of gas on the grills.  We also bought the wrong size couplers to fix the sprinkler again!  Third time is a charm right?  I have only 3 more prom dresses and two wedding dresses to get done before I start to sew on costumes.  I really am trying to crank them out.  That is my goal.

     My desk is piled high with papers and receipts and I need to  desperately get books done and bills paid it is almost the end of the month.  I must fit that in somehow.  It is always something. Now how do I fit this in?  Arghh.  Must get to work.

  I am just tired of this schedule. I want it gone and the only way to get it gone is to work. Dang  where is my magic wand.  Under a prom dress some where and the batteries are dead.

    Ballet Mistress and I are almost done with the 11 fox costumes, as we worked on those off and on during the weekend.

It is so pretty outside I just want to go sit in the sun.


Have a great and productive day!

Kim

Story cont:

     It had been a good day for Millie.  She had received an A on a history test.  One of the girls had asked her if she had made her dress and then another had asked for the pattern.  The English teacher had spoken well in front of the class on her execution and pronunciation in reading.  She was grateful for all the corrections given by Far mar.  Constantly she corrected the English of her grandchildren.  "Listen she would say.  It is like music, you would not substitute one note for another, so why a sound in  spoken word?"  Far mar was a stickler for pronunciation.  Millie remembered Far laughing at his mother, she was so particular about manners, music,elocution, but she could not fry a chicken or make a sauce that someone could eat.  She was rather good at desserts.  When Far and and Far far would tease her she would smile in her quiet way and go to the kitchen and make a stollen or some other delicacy.  It was her way of apologizing for her short comings.  Millie though about her Far mar on the way to pick up Peter from his school.  She missed Sweden.  She missed the wide open land and the clean air.  She missed the golden grass.  Here is was buildings and dust and noise.

     As Millie turned the corner on 12th Avenue, she spied the flower sellers cart.  It was an awful waste but she bought a two penny bouquet.  It was a overwhelming desire to have something beautiful around her.  She thought of Far mar again.  I must be like her, or perhaps it is the new dress. Far mar had loved fashion and flowers.  Millie could see her sitting in her parlor surrounded by her books.  The piano in the corner and the plants she so carefully tended on the window sill.  Far mar had favored heavy silk gowns.  So unsuitable for a farm she would often say with a smile.  Millie wondered if she would ever own a silk dress.  When she picked up Peter he insisted that he carry the bouquet.  Millie traded his dinner pail for the flowers.  He quickly buried his nose in the middle and sighed.  "I remember this smell," he said.  He looked up at Millie with his blue eyes and blond curls.  "This is what I remember it smelled like when we saw Far and Mar", remember? Do you remember Millie?"  Millie shook the thought out of her mind.  "Yes , I remember, would you rather I carried the flowers?"  "No", came his soft reply.

     When they entered the building Millie asked if Peter would like to go outback, but he wanted to put the flowers in water.  Millie would take Mar's special vase out of the trunk and he could see it.  The debate was going on in hes head, no he would rather go upstairs and put the flowers in the vase.  It was actually warm in the flat when Millie opened the door.  Dropping her belongings and the dinner pail on the table she walked across  the room to throw open the window. When she turned around she saw Inga standing in the doorway wearing her almost identical dress.  Millie started to laugh until she saw Inga's expression.  Here chin was trembling and it was obvious that something was very wrong.  "What is it?", Millie asked.  Inga started to shake and Millie quickly came to try and help her sit down.  "No, no ," Inga whispered as she struggled to free herself,"it is mother, she no wake, I try, try wake, she no wake." she was sobbing.  Millie walked quietly into the neighboring apartment, the sobbing Inga following her.  There on the long sofa was Inga's mother.  She looked like she was sleeping.  Her white hair softly pillowing around her face.  She was clutching the shawl that covered her.

     "She sleep when she eat, we listen radio.  Her favorite listen time, I  sewing.  She was sleep, I turn off, she sleep. I hurry to make order, fast, now I see late, she no wake." Inga knelt on the floor beside her mother and cried.  Millie reached for the lifeless closed fingers that were stiff and gripping the shawl.  "It will be okay Inga."  she said, "I will send someone for your brother."  Millie heard a small scuffling behind her.  In the doorway was Peter still holding the flowers  The shocked expression on his face told Millie all she needed to know.  In silent reverence broken only by Inga's soft crying, Peter crossed the room and lay the flowers next to the gripping hand.  "I will go down and get brother, " Peter said.  "Yes,yes,none of the others," whispered Millie. "Understand?" Peter sniffled wiping his nose on his sleeve," she is like Mar now, she won't wake up."  Millie could hear his little feet on the steps.  He did not run, his steps were even and deliberate, each one growing more silent as he descended the floors.

     Millie did not remember who came first.  She remembered sitting on the floor holding Inga's hand and then the flat was full of people.  Nels, Mrs. Strom sweating and fanning herself from her long climb.  Neighbor women some with infants on their hips were peaking into the room.  She sat still until someone, she was not even sure who, helped her up.  She was stiff from sitting so long.  A cup of strong coffee was placed in her hands and she was helped to the kitchen table. Drinking the hot liquid made Millie more aware of her surroundings.  "Where were her brother's and sister's?"  Mrs. Strom came into the kitchen with Mrs. Pratz 4th floor. "I cannot do those stairs again.' said Mrs. Strom. "One of the boys will have to be let up to run errands. They will learn of this soon enough."  Millie, coming out of her stupor asked, "Are they all downstairs?"  "We have all the young ones in the yard, watching those washers of your brothers. Let the undertaker and these dear people make some decisions without the noise, my Jeremy is watching over all of them and Nels has gone to find the brother.  "He is so quiet no one could remember his name, he is always known as Inga's brother or Old Mrs Stahl's son." said Mrs. Pratz.  "Did you know his name , Millie?" asked Mrs. Strom. "It is Joseph", whispered Millie.  "See I told you she knew, replied Mrs. Strom.  "Millie where were you when we were asking for that information, you sat next to Inga as if in a trance?"  Where had she been?  Millie felt old, tired, beaten, as if she had been buffeted about by a wind or a storm  She was aware of things going on but too deep in her own thoughts to really understand what others were saying.  She had gone back to Sweden.

 Kim