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Old 11-06-2006, 12:54 PM   #7
Desultory Dwimmerlaik
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‘Oh fuss and bother!’ Jóra looked quickly up at Granny Dulaan, her cheeks reddening at the old woman’s bemused look. ‘Well not you, Granny,’ she went on in way of explanation as she slid over on the long oaken bench. She fetched a soft cushion from beneath the bench and put it on the seat for Granny, patting it in invitation.

‘It’s just that I’m all thumbs this morning! I’ve managed to tangle this piece all up.’ She held up her knitting needles with as forlorn a look as she could manage on her eleven year old face. There, hanging between them, was what was supposed to be a cap for her father’s birthday. The start of a cap, that is…about twenty rows of bright red yarn; most of which were fairly even at the start, but had given up all hope in the last three or four rows. A number of the stitches were too tight, and a number too loose; the rows uneven.

Snick….snick…. The sharpening stone sang out against the arrowheads. Valr, with his thirteen years of wisdom, offered his brotherly opinion as he sat sharpening the twins’ arrows. ‘Looks like some great, old spider fell into the mead vat!’ He ducked quickly as his sister let go her ball of yarn in a quick aimed throw at his head. ‘Can’t throw either, can ya?!’ he snorted.

Before the skirmish could erupt into a full scale battle, Káta thumped on the hardwood frame of her loom with her shuttle, clearing her throat in a decisive manner. From across the large room, her black eyes sparkled with authority as she turned her face toward Valr and Jóra. ‘I like to keep a peaceful house,’ she said in a quiet voice that nonetheless was heard quite distinctly. ‘Take your little spat outdoors if you think you need to continue it.’ She sent her shuttle sliding between the loom threads. ‘Oh, and while you’re out there, we could use a few more rounds split and stacked on the woodpile.’

A duet of groans was heard as knitting and arrows were put away. Jóra stuck out her tongue at her brother as she passed near him on the way to the door. She pushed on the thick wool blanket which hung in the doorway and started to exit, then paused midstride. Ducking back inside she turned with a big grin on her face. ‘Hey! Papi and the twins are back from hunting!’ She peeked outside once more. Her muffled voice drifted back into the room. ‘Oh! And it looks like he’s brought Erling back with him.’ There were sounds of heavy footsteps as the men approached the doorway.

‘Hurry now!’ Káta said, rising up from her cushion. She smoothed down the skirt of her dress and pushed back a few stray hairs, securing them behind her ears. ‘Get the bread and cheese out from the food chest, Jóra. And you, Valr, get a big pitcher of ale from the new barrel. Just put them on the table, there, children. Granny, won’t you set out the cups, please.’

‘There you are, light of my life!’ Grimr’s voice boomed about the room as he entered. He grinned round at Granny and his two youngest children, his eyes falling at last upon his wife. ‘And haven’t your sons and I brought you a fine brace of geese and young buck to keep our bellies filled for a while. Fálki and Falarr are hanging them outside.’ He ruffled the hair of Jóra and Valr as they drew near to lean up against him. ‘Be a change from mutton, eh?’

He looked behind him, surprised not to see Erling. ‘Let the young fellows take care of our prizes, Erling,’ he called out the door. ‘Come and have a cup of ale with us!’

Last edited by piosenniel; 11-01-2007 at 01:13 PM.
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