plant fly trick button
She buttoned her nubby cardigan and planted her foot into the spongy mud inside the barn. Aside from the obvious, Spring was evident in the alternating wooliness and ruddy skin of the two babies. Down in Boston the two girls would have been Irish twins. Up here, it was just life's tricks: two runny-nosed imps toddling together around the pasture, naked but for moth-eaten pullovers. As soon as Ella and Beatrice had grown old enough to notice clothes, they had both forsaken them. Once summer arrived they would be fully and constantly naked, black flies be damned.
Once summer arrived. Well, if the seasons were to be believed, summer would have to come. It was already closing on Easter and lamb was on the menu for more than one of Nora's neighbors. Killing had been easier last year with only one toddler, the other one bundled onto Nora's back, out of the way and out of trouble. This year the ewes had been busy and fertile, and Nora had become particularly attached to the youngest. She had named only one of the precious pink moist lambs. He was born on the first day of lent, and so irreverently honoring religion, Nora had given him the name Jesus. Their lumpy bumpy farm life did not forbid naming the animals, but the pace was generally quick enough to limit it. Names or not, they mostly ended up as food and were delicious either way.
As her eyes adjusted to the warm, swarmy air inside the sheep's stalls, her head bobbed to avoid the now-useless and fly-laden sticky tape dangling from the ceiling. After Beatrice was born, Nora had never really regained her full pre-pregnancy memory, and so little thing like new fly-paper for the barn tended to lie undone for a bit longer. Fortunately, Colin rarely noticed and life tumbled on as happily as before.
Sooo. . . . what's the story. I need to ponder this in a quiet room somewhere. I need a little suspense - the picture is mostly painted, but what is going to HAPPEN?! Wins: 4 words used! "She BUTTONed her nubby cardigan and PLANTed her foot. . . life's TRICKs. . . FLY-laden". Concerns: 313 words used so far total, leaving only 287 to make something happen & resolve it enough to satisfy myself and any possible readers. Gonna ponder it. For now, BBC & bedtime - yum!