Drift Off To Maida's Little House (Chapter 9 & 10)

Welcome back,

Drift Off listeners,

To another cozy evening on the podcast where I whisk you away to the land of dreams with sleepy tales.

I'm your host Joanne,

And tonight we continue our journey with Medha as I read a few more chapters from Medha's Little House,

The second book from the beloved Medha series.

We will embark on a magical journey with Medha and all of her friends,

Where they spend a happy summer together in a sweet little house in the country that has everything a child could wish for.

This book highlights themes of friendship,

Independence,

And the joy of simple pleasures in a young girl's journey towards health and happiness.

Now,

Go ahead and close your eyes.

Take a slow,

Deep,

Comfortable breath.

Hold it for a moment,

And exhale slowly.

Feel the tension melting away from your body as you prepare to drift off into a world of wonder and imagination.

And so,

My friend,

Lay back,

Relax,

And let the soothing narration lull you into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter 9.

Plans Now,

Medha announced at breakfast a week later,

We've had all the vacation we're going to get,

At least all that the big six get.

Tomorrow begins our work.

Father said we could plan it ourselves how it was to be done.

And unless our plans were bad ones,

We could keep right on with them.

Now,

I propose that,

Right after breakfast,

You boys go to the barn and make a program of your work.

We girls will stay here and make a program for ourselves.

You remember what it is you're expected to do.

Notwithstanding protests that they remembered everything,

She recited briefly again to the boys the list of their duties.

After breakfast,

As directed,

The big six divided.

The boys proceeded to the barn.

The girls settled themselves in the big,

Comfortable living room,

Began to discuss the work that they were to do.

Rosie,

In some inexplicable way,

Soon took control,

Was handling the situation in the practical,

Efficient way that was typical of her.

Do you know how to make a bed,

Maida?

She asked.

No,

Maida answered dolefully.

I never made one in my life.

It looks easy,

Though.

It's easy to make a bed badly,

Rosie said with emphasis.

How about you,

Laura?

Well,

Laura replied slowly.

I have made one.

Rosie groaned.

I know what it will look like,

She commented.

Now I can make a bed,

She boasted.

Right after we finish this,

I'll take you upstairs and show you both.

Now,

How about cooking?

Maida looked aghast.

I never cooked anything in my life.

That's what I thought,

Rosie remarked grimly.

How about cooking,

Laura?

I can make popovers.

One,

Two,

Three,

Four cake and cup custard,

Laura stated proudly.

And,

Oh yes,

Fudge.

Is that all,

Rosie asked scornfully.

Yes,

Laura admitted.

Can either of you make a fire,

Rosie went on.

Two meek no's were the answer.

Well,

As far as I can see,

Rosie decided,

We've got to begin at the very beginning.

Now,

I've been thinking this matter over.

And it seems to me there's only one fair way of doing it.

And that is for us to weed the flower garden all together every morning.

Each one of us to take care of their own room.

Her own room,

Maida corrected.

She added roguishly,

I thought you were beginning to feel too important,

Rosie.

All right,

Smarty cat,

Her own room.

Then,

When it comes to Florabelle's day out,

We'll take turns in planning the three meals.

But every Thursday,

One of us must have the day in charge.

On that day,

The other two are only assistants.

Rosie,

Maida exclaimed,

I think you're perfectly wonderful.

That seems to me to be absolutely all right.

Don't you think so,

Laura?

Yes,

Laura answered,

Equally enthusiastic.

I think it's marvelous.

Well then,

Rosie began again,

Let's begin to plan meals for this Thursday.

They were deep in this interesting task when the boys returned from the barn.

They compared plans.

The boys' plan did not differ so very much from the girls',

Except that,

When it came to the work in the vegetable garden,

They had decided to weed in rotation.

Also in rotation,

They were to sprinkle garden and tennis court nightly,

To roll the tennis court daily.

Each boy was to make his own bed.

There was a typewriter in the library,

And they spent the next half hour typing out these plans and making as many copies as there were children.

Then they'd pin them up in their rooms.

Say,

Arthur declared suddenly,

You girls have got to show us how to make a bed.

I suppose I could make one,

After a fashion,

But I never have.

I don't know how to begin.

I do,

Said Harold unexpectedly.

I learned how to make beds last summer at camp.

I'll show you.

Show us now,

Arthur demanded.

The three boys started in the direction of the barn.

Let's go too,

Rosie whispered.

Isn't it a joke to think of boys trying to make beds?

I'd like to see the bed after Harold has finished with it.

The girls tagged the boys,

Followed them upstairs into the barn.

At once,

Harold began in the most businesslike way to strip the bed.

It was apparent that on arising,

He had pulled the covers back to air.

Then,

With swift,

Efficient movements,

He began to remake it.

Goodness,

Rosie exclaimed humbly in a moment.

I can't make a bed as well as that.

I'm going to learn too.

Indeed,

The bed looked like a mathematical problem which had just been solved.

And as Harold proceeded to clean up the room in the way he had learned at camp,

The others followed him with respectful glances.

Harold tidied the three chiffonniers and the three closets.

When he finished,

The room had a look of military perfection.

Now,

He commanded,

Arthur,

You make your bed,

And Dickie,

You make yours.

I'll supervise the job.

I'm going right back to my room and remake my bed,

Harold,

Maeda declared.

It looks as though somebody had driven an automobile over it.

I will too,

Admitted the humbled Rosie.

Think of having a boy teach you how to make a bed.

The boys rejoined the girls after a while,

And again they went over their plans.

In the midst of it all,

Granny Flynn came in to see what was keeping them so quiet.

They showed her the typewritten schedules,

And she approved them highly.

They ought to work like a charm,

She averred.

And indeed,

It seemed as though her prophecy were a true one.

About the same hour the next morning,

Twin alarm clocks rang out.

One in the barn,

Another in Maeda's room.

Very soon after,

A sleepy boy,

Arthur had volunteered for the first day in the garden,

Emerged from the barn.

Three sleepy girls from the house.

They weeded busily for half an hour.

In the meantime,

Another sleepy boy was rolling the tennis court,

Which had been hosed the night before.

Then came breakfast.

Immediately after breakfast,

Rooms were made speckless.

With the girls,

This continued to be a kind of game.

They not only prided themselves on keeping their chambers clean,

But they actually tried to match the flowers they placed there to the chinches and wallpapers.

It's fun to take care of these darling rooms,

Rosie declared again and again.

They're so little,

I feel as though we ought to buy a doll's broom and a doll's carpet sweeper,

And a doll's dustpan and brush.

I never saw such sweet furniture in all my life,

And how I loved the roof slanting down like that.

I feel that way too.

Exactly as though I were putting a doll's house in order,

Laura coincided happily.

As for the boys,

They bothered with no flowers.

Indeed,

A military plainness prevailed in the barn.

This,

Of course,

Meant also a military neatness,

To which no one of them was accustomed but Harold.

Harold constituted himself critic-in-chief,

And he proved a stern critic indeed.

He would not permit the sheets on the bed to deviate one hair's breadth from perfect horizontality or absolute verticality.

A bit of paper on the floor elicited an immediate rebuke.

He even stipulated the exact spots on the chiffonier tops where brush,

Comb,

And mirror were to be kept,

And he saw that the other boys kept them there.

The victims of his passion for military order had to roll their pajamas in a certain way and put them in a certain place.

A similar neatness characterized the closets.

Coats and trousers had to be hung on special hangers,

Ties on special hooks.

As for bureau drawers,

Harold maintained that there was a place for everything,

And woe to Dickie or Arthur when everything was not in its place.

Immediately after the rooms were done in the morning came errands.

The first morning,

Granny let the big six do all the marketing,

Even what could have been done over the telephone,

So that they could get to know where the shops were.

They proceeded on their bicycles with Maida for a guide.

Maida took them to the post office,

To the butcher,

The grocer,

The coalman,

The woodman,

The hardware shop,

The ice cream establishment,

Even to the little dry goods shop and to the cobbler.

She introduced them to all the village authorities.

After today,

Maida explained,

We'll have to do only part of Granny's marketing for her,

And only one of us need attend to it.

Oh,

Let's do it every day and all together,

Dickie burst out impulsively.

You think you'll enjoy that because it's new to you,

Maida laughed,

But you'll soon get tired of it.

No,

We'd better take turns.

Monday,

Tuesday,

Wednesday went by.

More and more certainly,

Granny Flynn's prophecy seemed on the way to be proved true.

The twin sets of plans worked perfectly.

It looked as though the summer were going by without a hitch.

Then came Thursday,

Florabelle's and Zeke's day out.

Chapter 10 Responsibility Really,

As Rosie pointed out,

The work for Florabelle's and Zeke's day out began the morning before.

You had to make sure then that there was enough raw material in the house for three meals of the next day.

Therefore,

Early Wednesday morning,

Before they went to market,

The three girls sat down at the typewriter and worked out the program of their three meals.

Rosie,

You take charge of the first day,

Maida urged.

You've had so much more experience than Laura or me.

Don't you think she ought Laura?

I certainly do,

Laura agreed with conviction.

Thank goodness,

Breakfast is always easy.

It's fruit and breakfast food and eggs.

Thank goodness,

Too,

That fruit grows already made.

Just think how much work it would be if we had to cook oranges and peaches,

Or if we had to shell berries.

And what a blessing milk is.

How nice of the cow to deliver it all cooked.

Well then,

Rosie began,

Taking the situation in hand at once.

Let's start with fruit.

Let's have oranges.

Oh,

Let's,

Interrupted Maida excitedly.

I know a perfectly beautiful way to prepare oranges.

You cut the skins into quarters,

And then into eighths while they're still on the orange.

You don't pull them off,

But you turn them back,

So that the orange stands in the midst of petals of its own peel,

Just like a gold pond lily.

All except Delia's orange,

Laura put in.

I noticed that Mrs.

Dorr gives her orange juice,

And after she has squeezed it,

She strains it very carefully.

All right,

Laura,

Rosie agreed again at once.

You can attend to the oranges.

I think we'd better have prepared breakfast food this first breakfast,

Maida suggested.

We're bound to make a lot of mistakes in cooking,

But we can't hurt anything that just comes out of a box.

Yes,

You're right,

Maida,

Rosie agreed.

Now,

Shall we have an omelet?

I know how to cook omelets.

No,

I guess we'd better have boiled eggs.

They're the easiest,

And I don't want to make any mistakes the first day if possible.

Well,

That settles breakfast,

Maida declared with satisfaction.

Now,

What are we going to have for dinner?

I'd like to have a fish chowder,

Rosie suggested.

We haven't had one this summer.

Most everybody likes chowder.

And then she added with a smile,

It's the only thing I know how to cook.

Then we'll have it,

Rosie,

Maida decided.

I'll teach you how to make chowder if you like,

Rosie offered.

Oh,

Will you,

Rosie?

Maida asked ecstatically.

I love fish chowder.

I've never in all my life had enough.

How I would enjoy making it.

And then,

Rosie continued,

For dessert,

We'll have bread pudding.

It's the only pudding I know how to make.

Laura drew a long breath.

What'll we eat next Thursday,

She asked in a serious tone.

I don't know how to cook anything but popovers and custards and cake.

Maida doesn't know how to cook anything at all.

And you are cooking,

This first Thursday,

Everything you know.

Rosie sighed too.

Well,

We'll consider next Thursday when it comes,

She decided wisely.

And besides,

Granny and Mrs.

Dorr or Florabelle will teach us how to cook anything.

They said they would.

And now we have to come to supper.

Supper was not so easy for Laura as for the other two,

Because Rosie immediately decided that Laura should make some of her 1-2-3-4 cake.

The rest of the meal was to be bread and butter,

Some of the preserves left over from the year before,

With which the house was richly provided,

And great pitchers of milk.

We've got to do the cooking for this whole day ourselves,

Maida sighed.

There isn't a thing in which the boys can help us.

No,

Rosie admitted regretfully.

And I wanted to make them work too.

Next week,

She added,

They'll be busy enough,

Because we'll have ice cream and they'll have to turn the freezer.

The girls pinned up their schedule of meals on the kitchen wall,

Set the alarm clock for an incredibly early hour,

Went to bed at 8 instead of 9,

Very serene in their minds.

The record of their first day was probably as good and as bad as that of most amateur cooks.

In the early morning,

The little girls moved so noiselessly about the big kitchen and talked in such low tones,

That Mrs.

Dorr said she had not heard a sound until the breakfast bell rang.

The first two courses of breakfast went off beautifully.

Then they discovered they had boiled the eggs 12 minutes.

Granny declared that they must eat them because eggs were expensive.

Perhaps it was to take away the sting from this mistake that Mrs.

Dorr remarked that she had never seen oranges look so beautiful as these in their curled golden calyxes.

When it came to luncheon,

There were mistakes again,

But not such serious ones.

Rosie's chowder was hot and perfectly delicious,

Only there wasn't enough of it.

Rosie herself nobly went without,

But the children clamored for more.

On the other hand,

She had made enough bread pudding for a family twice their size.

Here the boys eagerly came to the rescue and demanded three helpings each.

Supper was very successful.

Granny Flynn and Mrs.

Dorr congratulated Rosie warmly upon it.

Well,

I didn't make any mistakes for this meal,

Rosie said dryly,

Because there wasn't anything that I cooked.

However,

Granny continued to praise the three tired little girls.

It's fine little cooks you'll make,

She prophesied.

In the glow that this praise developed,

They washed and wiped the dishes,

Chattering like magpies.

And then,

Following the impulse which emerged from that happy glow,

They cleaned up Florabelle's kitchen.

They rearranged and redecorated to such good purpose that,

The next day,

Florabelle said privately to Mrs.

Dorr,

It sure does look beautiful,

And I've never seen a kitchen like it,

But ah,

I can't find a single thing.

Sweet dreams,

My friend.

Sleep well.