Elfreda Pulls her Weight

The next morning dawned glorious and rose-colored. Elfreda stared through her windows, surprised at how beautiful the scrubby, reddish colored landscape looked with the flood of the early-morning sun over it. IT made her wish that she had Eastern-facing windows-- the sunrise itself must be breathtaking, she thought.

She slowly rose from her bed. Her little clock said 7 am, and she was still recovering from jet lag, but she congratulated herself for making an early start despite this handicap. She needed to show Bobbert that she was serious about pulling her weight-- he had been so sneering and sarcastic the other day when he mentioned her smooth hands and working with crocks.

Elfreda bit her lip and looked at her hands. They were beautiful; one of the things about her appearance that she was proud of-- smooth, small, pale, and with beautiful moon-shaped cuticles. She spent a fair amount of time buffing her nails to mirror-brightness in the hope that Davian would notice.

Well, that no longer matters, Elfreda thought dully as she walked to her wardrobe. She pulled it open and sorted through the racks to find something suitable, but she couldn't come up with much. Finally, she donned a pair of knee-high leather boots-- she had saved for months to buy them-- a pair of denim shorts, and a soft, cotton eyelet blouse. She pulled a straw hat from her hatrack and put it on. Finally, she pulled her red hair into little pigtails to keep it out of her face. She surveyed herself in the mirror and felt a stirring of confidence-- she looked like she was ready to work, she thought.

After a hurried breakfast, wherein Janey kept giving Elfreda odd looks, and suggesting various things like that she should rub sunscreen over her pale skin or change into a different pair of shorts (Elfreda just nodded politely and pretended she didn't care-- she didn't have any other shorts, and she didn't want Bobbert to think that she was worried about her pale complexion, not after what he said the day before), Elfreda walked out the back door and asked one of the yard hands to take her over to the crock farm. They drove for what seemed to Eflreda quite a while. The experience was unsettling-- the little jeep roared over rutted dirt swaths and churned up the muddy spots, spattering Elfreda's bare knees, shorts, white shirt, and shiny leather boots with drops almost as red as blood. When they finally got there, Elfreda knew she looked a sight.

She scanned the area with a hand shading her eyes. She saw several men bustling about, mostly with tattered or no shirts on, and filthy jeans and boots. She didn't recognize Bobbert until he turned and raised a hand in welcome. "Come over here," he called. "I have a job for you."

Elfreda had to remind herself to breathe in. Just as she had the day before, she was caught momentarily by surprise at the sight of Bobbert's rippling arm muscles, and Elfreda noticed this time, his build in the chest and back was admirable, too. She dismissed the thought from her mind with a sniff.

Davian couldn't hold a candle to Bobbert for strength, she thought. But who wants a brute when you can have a gentleman?

She shook her head. But I don't have a choice. She had forgotten for a moment, and the dissapointment at remembering her predicament fell on her like a lead weight.

She blinked back tears and took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she came up to Bobbert. "What do you want me to do?" She asked.

Bobbert looked her over, and an eyebrow quivered as he took in her costume, but he didn't say anything about it, for which Elfreda was grateful. Among these men in their tattered ensembles, she knew that she looked ridiculous, particularly the boots. But she was determined to play it off. After all, she'd had nothing more suitable in her wardrobe.

"This is what I would like for you to do today," Bobbert said gruffly, handing her a shovel. "A few of the crocks have been sick lately, and they've been pooping along the sides of the pit. I need you to shovel it into this barrow--" He indicated an encrusted wheelbarrow sitting by the edge of the pool, and Elfreda wrinkled her nose against a most unpleasant smell. "And dump it in the pile we've started over there. It makes the edges too slippery for us to work well with the animals."

Elfreda suppressed her surprise and disgust and began shoveling the smelly lumps into the wheelbarrow. She pressed her lips together grimly, but other than that, kept all expressions of what she felt off of her face. Bobbert watched her for a moment, and then went off to join the others. "Oh-- one more thing," he said, turning back. "Keep an eye out for crocks. They like to sneak up near the edge and spring. I don't want my wife for crocodile feed anytime soon, so look for their eyes-- those little lumps sticking up above the water. See?"

Elfreda couldn't help but shiver as she looked- there were countless little lumps all over the water, some within a few feet of where she was. For a moment, fear paralyzed her, but she felt Bobbert's gaze on her, and so she forced herself to inch a little bit closer to the pool to get the lumps that lay closer to the water, keeping a wary eye on the pairs of eyes as she did so.

SRM-- Haregewoin Teffera

I have mentioned Melissa Faye Greene's book a number of times. It is about a woman, Haregewoin Teffera, who through an unusual series of life events and circumstances, found herself caring for aids orphans. Her organization is an official institution. Check her out here.

If there were more people like this woman, the world would be a much easier place for children to live in.

Religious traffic

This woman was reaaaally tired. Give her a break. Who wouldn't be, reporting traffic at 6 in the morning?


I say this after laughing so hard my stomach muscles are cramping up.

The forbidden hallway

In case you have fallen behind (and who could blame you):

Part 1 (includes explanation for horrified/confused readers)
Part 2

Elfreda woke suddenly. For a moment, she was completely mystified, and then the haze of sleep slowly drifted away, and she remembered where she was. Remembering didn't lessen her amazement, however, at her surroudnings. She'd hardly had time or attention to notice them as she drifted off to sleep, but she turned her full attention to them now. She was lying in a cloud of silk, or so it seemed; the linens were delicious, and as she sat up, she realized that she was resting on a cusion of water. A waterbed. A magnificent one, at that, with mahogany posters carved with alligators chasing delicately-carved cupids. Similarly, there was a fresco on the canopy-- two little chubby angels, embracing each other. It reminded Elfreda of a painting she had seen once. She looked around the room and took in the lavishly-carved wardrobe, the windowseat and long, western-facing windows veiled with gold velvet swaths. Everywhere she looked she saw plush furniture infested with plump, overstuffed pillows of glowing, jewel-like shades. The crowning glory was a white marble statue in the center of the room-- Venus de Milo. Someone had thoughtfully painted a bathing suit on her, which Elfreda was grateful for. Obviously, whomever decorated this room has good taste, she thought to herself, lightly touching Venus's marble elbow on the way to the vanity, festooned with candy-pink ruffles and covered with an assortment of glamorous-looking bottles.


As she sat down at it, she started in surprise-- right over the vanity hung a grim picture of a man with grizzled, sandy-colored hair and a day's growth of beard. He stared so, it gave Elfreda the nerves. Bobbert, she thought to herself crossly. Of course he wants to remind me whom I am making myself presentable for.

With this thought, the tears came in earnest. Davian.

Their parting had been terrible. Davian had been relatively calm and unemotional-- putting on a brave face, Elfreda thought fondly. He had, however, taken her hand and smoothed it with his fine fingertips, sending shivers racing up her arm, and told her that he would try to find a way. A way to make sure they could be together. His dark eyes had been pools of molten chocolate as he stared at her, the fervor in his face making its boyish features more grim than usual.

Elfreda sighed and blew her nose. It is no use, she thought. He can do nothing for me. My mother must have her operation, and I must marry Bobbert. That's the end of it. She looked at herself in the mirror, resolution lending an extra jut to her chin and an extra gleam to her eye. She looked well, she knew. Her tangerine-colored sundress was bright and cheery, and brought out the pleasant carrot aspect of her hair. But she must change to something more presentable if she were to meet the master of Grimschanks Manor for an evening together. Our first evening, she thought. He'll have to behave himself; he's too proud to forego etiquette.

She went to her closet, which had been loaded up with the gowns and dresses and wraps and hats and shoes and slacks and blouses and scarves from all of her bags, and selected an amber gown with crystal bangles runnning along the hem and bodice. It became her nicely-- made her appear more sophisticated. Elfreda nodded at herself in the mirror, assuming an expression of cool decorum. She slid her tiny feet into gilt-edged slippers and walked down the hall, careful to keep her head high, her spine straight. She had a little difficulty remembering how to get back to the main salon, and found that she had taken a wrong turn. She ended up in a rather dank, decaying hallway, with worm-eated doorframes and half-crumbled statuary. It was a little eerie, this place-- she couldn't remember it at all from when she and Bobbert had played as children. She jumped as she heard a sublte footfall behind her.

She turned, and sighed with relief, but Bobbert's face was ablaze with fury. "What are you doing here?" He hissed.

"I-I'm sorry," Elfreda stuttered. "I lost my way."

"Well, let me guide you then." His tones were clipped, and there was an ironic gleam in his pale eyes. He placed a firm hand in the small of her back, hurrying her to the point of her tripping on her little shoes. He looked down at them with distaste.

"Here we are," he said shortly, depositing her into the main salon.

"Aren't you coming?" Elfreda asked.

"No." He replied, and turned back the way he came.

Elfreda gazed after him, wondering. A slight chill ran over her as she though of his face when he had discovered her in that decaying hallway.

What is he hiding? She rubbed her arms, and gazed in surprise down at them-- she was all over gooseflesh.

Mitt's up

Hooray!!!

I've been reading some polls today, and in the wake of the 2nd republican debate, it looks like Mitt and Rudy are neck-and-neck, with Ron Paul, and then John McCain trailing those two.

keep it up, Mitt. To watch the debate, you can go to MSNBC.com. I haven't had a chance to watch the whole thing yet, I have to go shopping and library hopping. Enjoy.

Elfreda's Gaffe

For some reason, blogger's acting up, so I can't add my picture this time. But here's a link to the original installment of my farcequin, and an explanation for any bewildered and horrified readers.


Bobbert hardly spoke as they rode along the main way of the bustling harbor town, or as they bumped along the rocky offroad that lead off into the barren wasteland. The outback, Elfreda thought with a shiver.
"Cold?" Bobbert asked.
"Oh, no," Elfreda mumbled. Suddenly she felt warm linen on her bare shoulders. She fingered it with surprise-- Bobbert's plaid shirt. Without thinking, she turned to look at him and then blushed at the sight of his bare chest. His arms were deeply tanned, the tan stopping short in a line at the shoulder and a round at the neck.
"No thank you," Elfreda murmured, bunching the shirt into one hand and holding it sideways in his direction. She kept her eyes fastened on the road.
He took the shirt silently. "So, is rough flannel not good enough for you then?" He asked after a while.
"Why, I--" Elfreda stuttered. She really had no idea what to say; she was far to embarrassed to admit that it was the sight of his muscled forearms that had prompted the quick return of his offering.
"Well, you'll get used to flannel soon enough," he cut in crisply. Elfreda glanced sidelong at him; his jaw was set, and he had a steely glint in his eyes.
Oh dear, she thought to herself, I've upset him. "No, I'm fine," she hastened. "I'm quite looking forward to helping out with the crocodiles."
He jerked the steering wheel to the right; the car began ambling up a road which ran at a 45 degree incline. The potholes jarred the car horribly; Elfreda bit her lip without realizing it.
"No wife of mine will be getting her hands all scarred up with crocodiles," Bobbert stated, his lips firmly pressed together.
"But Bobbert--"
He pulled the car to a stop with a jerk. "You're lip's bleeding," he said.
Wonderingly she raised a finger to her lips, he pulled it away in a bruising grip and then brought his own lips down on hers. The kiss was ferocious, devouring. When he broke away, his own lips were covered in her blood.
It looks rather like red lipstick, Elfreda thought. "How dare you," she said, whitefaced. She looked at his hand, which was crushing hers-- the cuticles were ragged, the fingers yellow and hard with blisters, the nails chipped and torn.
He followed her gaze and dropped her hand like it was a hot potato."How dare I what? Kiss my own fiancee?" His eyes were blazing. "Well, if that's how it's going to be, then maybe you're right. Maybe you ought to pull your own weight around here. A marriage of convenience, after all. We'll see how your lily white hands fare with the crocs." He didn't bother to open the door for her, he just slammed his abruptly and headed into the house.
Elfreda's bloody lip trembled as she gathered up her mountain of suitcases and soft bags, purses and pelisses and hatboxes. She staggered into the front door. And nearly wept at the kindly face of the woman who met her there. "Janey!" She cried, a quiver in her voice. "How wonderful to see a familiar face."
Janey looked at Elfreda. "You've grown into a magnificent young woman. No wonder young master Grimschanks has fallen for you."
"Oh," Elfreda sighed desolately, "But I don't think he he has. He doesn't seem to like me much at all." Her eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, don't mind his gruff ways," Janey said, patting her on the shoulder. "Why, just the other day he scared the scullery maid into hysterics without realizing it. You'll figure out his mind soon enough. He's just like when he was a boy-- kind and gentle as a kitten," her eyes misted reminiscently. "He's the best master I could ever hope to have."
Elfreda frowned. Such an account was nothing in the line of what she had just experienced. Family loyalty, she thought with disgust. I can't see even a tiny bit in Bobbert of the boy I used to play with.

Janey lead her along several winding passages, past hundreds of rooms, until she reached a mahogany door and opened it. Elfreda walked dully into the room and collapsed onto her bed, senseless of the room around her. "thank you, Janey."

"I'll have Donkers bring up your bags," Janey promised. "Supper in half an hour."

"I think I'll skip supper," Elfreda said.
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Janey shook her head, glancing nervously toward the hallway.
"I'm tired, Janey. Make my apologies to Master Grimschanks."
She lay in the pillow, thinking of the complete changes that had come into her life. And in Bobbert. When he had been a child, he had been so fun, so gentle. And a tease. One time when they had been playing together, she had fallen asleep on the front lawn. She had awakened to find pieces of paper rolled up in her nostrils. She'd had a hearty laugh and gotten him back later by cutting off half of his hair.

What happened to that Bobbert? Gayle thought dully to herself. I didn't sign up for this.

And then she remembered. No, I must do as I promised, she thought firmly to herself. It's a matter of integrity. And After all, there's mother's nose to think of.

After a few moments, she fell asleep, and slept so deeply that she never heard the ominous clanging of the dinner gong. Bobbert came storming down the hall and flung open the door, but the sight of her there, with her pale face and cut lip, her delicate complexion and bright hair contrasting so sweetly with the paleness of the pillowcase, his anger melted away. Quietly he closed the door and let her rest. He stood for a long moment ouside the door, his grizzled head bowed, and then walked reluctantly back to the kitchen.

SRM-- mother's day gift

I know that Mother's day was yesterday. But I thought that it would be appropriate to continue the celebration. After all, compare the volume of good acts and kind deeds and life and liberty and happiness-sacrificing that your mother has done, with the amount of time it's celebrated ;)

I received a letter in the mail from my placing agency outlining a new program that they are starting. They're a non-profit agency, and in addition to adopting out orphans from Ethiopia and Liberia, they run a house for Ethiopian orphans, they do various projects to improve the lives of street children in Ethiopia and Liberia. Their newest project is a free day-care center for Ethiopian children. Their goal is to be able to take in the children of women who have to work outside the home, and provide them with care and meals so that the mothers can keep them and not give them up.

If you've read this , you know why this would be such a big deal. If you haven't, read it. It will change your life.

Anyway, I made a donation for mother's day. If you would like more information, you can contact the agency:

Americans For African Adoptions, Inc. - 2005
8910 Timberwood Drive
Indianapolis, IN 46234-1952
Phone: 317-271-4567
Fax: 317-271-8739

and they will happily supply you with it. Or, if you would like to just click a button and donate, you are the trusting sort (and I can vouch for them, they're legit,) go to their website. It hasn't been updated in a couple of years, but not for lack of desire, I think. Anyway, there's a button that you can click and simply donate that way.

Happy Mother's day, all you wonderful mothers out there.