Stories – Page 7 – tim mcmurdo

The whirring of the wheel could be heard throughout the quiet room, occasionally punctuated by the creak of the foot pedal as the spinner kept time to the tune in her head. Normally the ticking of the mantle clock would rule the silence but, Thursdays were spinning and washing days and the wheel's soft hum was all she heard. The Jeanne Clauson much preferred spinning yarn from wool than doing the family wash and was glad that, being the mother, she could delegate the washing to her two daughters. She knew that her girls, Ellie and Stella, were becoming old enough to leave their drop spindles and move to the more efficient wheel. Perhaps next year, she would let them slowly take her place.

Jeanne could feel the smooth lanolin from the wool as it passed through her fingers. The lanolin would would help turn the rain, perfect for the new coat they would be making Asa, her husband, from the yarn she was spinning. He would be thankful for the dry warmth come winter. There would be plenty of yarn left over and perhaps they could knit new scarves and mittens for the girls as well.

As the wheel spun on, she began to hum a favorite reel and a smile escaped her lips. She remembered the last time she had danced with her husband last fall. Asa was a stiff and clumsy dancer, much to the amusement of everyone. Made all the funnier because he loved to dance and thought he was good at it. Clumsy or not, it was nice that he liked to dance with her, she knew of many husbands that would not.

Her smile broadened into a warm grin as the wheel spun around and around throughout the afternoon. Their's was a happy home filled with the small things that made life good in spite of the hardships they sometimes faced. The laughter, the songs, and the games her girls played warmed her heart in the chill of mid Spring. Laughing and humming, she made the wheel spin on.

Here are the links to the entire series of Elli Claussen stories:

The big man unlocked the door to the smithy and paused to take in the place. The smell of the smoke and sweat never changed. Black soot covered everything with a familiar grime. It was a comforting place, a retreat of sorts from the rest of the world. A place to be lost in the work, letting his mind mull over the issues of the day in the back ground while his hands beat a steady pattern. Today, he would have little Ellie Clauson on his mind. She was well known to his family and often played with his two girls. He didn't look forward to going to the funeral on Saturday but, he would be there with his family, with the other mourners as they put her into the ground. He couldn't imagine if either of his girls were in Ellie's place.

With a jolt, the man came back to the present. Standing and and wasting time wouldn't get the day's work done. He took off his good coat and laid it aside where it wouldn't be ruined. Lit paper was set into the forge. Next he piled the coke created the day before over the gaping, flaming mouth of the forge, being sure to separate out any klinker he may have missed when he headed into the house yesterday evening. An old worn shovel piled fresh coal around the nuggets of coke. Rotating a hand crank set the blower into motion and flame soon erupted into the air, belching black and yellow sulpherous smoke like a dragon in the books he devoured when he was a kid. Selecting a hammer and tongs from the rack, he was ready to go.

The man thrust a long rod of iron, the thickness of his thumb into the pile of hot coke with his right hand and applied his left hand to the blower crank. In what seemed to be only moments, he pulled the glowing rod from the flame and set it on the anvil. Picking up the hammer, he began to beat the soft, hot iron. Slowly at first and then faster until he settled into a fluid motion. His muscles knew what to do and he knew that soon his mind would drift again. For now, he worked. Beating and heating, beating and heating the iron into the shape he had in mind. He liked seeing the metal being formed. Liked seeing the scale of impurities forced out of the metal. Liked creating something useful from the earth.

In time, he would let his thoughts go, released to wander where they would.