Randal Shayne Posted December 15, 2016 Share Posted December 15, 2016 ((Tro'Arn Farm, Arnmere, Trill)) ::It was spring in Arnmere, and Norva Rennyn had a lot on her mind.:: ::Her oldest son, Norvil, was the proud father of his third child, a bouncing baby boy of such typically large Rennyn size that he had put out his father's back, leaving them all short a hand for the season. She remembered very well that famous Rennyn baby mass. She'd had nine of them herself, only three of them under ten pounds at birth, and two of those were the twins. Then there were the nine grandkids, now ranging from twelve years down to one, all of whom had been dropped off at grandma's house on a regular repeating loop since birth. She loved those sweet babies with all her soul, but it sure would be nice if someone would call first once in a while.:: ::There was Norvil and his wife and three kids, and her oldest daughter Thara and her husband Maren and their three kids. And old Aunt Metzi to worry about, though she was fairly self-sufficient. And her husband Elan, of course. That was just here on the main farm. Down the road, Norva's son Dirin and his wife ran their own farm with their two little ones, getting bigger every day. Fess moved into the city for work, but he was back like clockwork every weekend, and Vye dropping in and out as her business allowed, and of course Ren and Alin were both off in the stars, but Nila, the other twin, was a new mom, and they just lived over in town in Lenna Golfarn's old place. Then there was Tor, her youngest, twenty now and away at school. Tor was on her mind most of all these days, and the worry that he might not come back here. Some days she wanted a little space to herself, but she sure didn't want any of her kids to move away.:: ::Today, Norva was in her shop, her own little work place out the back of the oldest barn. Elan carved out the space for her years ago, and she had all her woodworking tools and her metalworking tools, her trusty big hammer and her welding torch and her soldering iron. Needlework was for other grandmas. Since she was little more than a young girl, Norva loved working with her hands, and had by now nearly furnished the whole town with her chairs, tables and other creations made out of repurposed building materials.:: ::Right then, she was hammering a few things good and hard. There was so much to think about on this farm, and it got to be so she was sick of it some days.:: ::The planting was ongoing at this time of year, and Norvil and Thara had ostensibly taken over operations at Tro'Arn. It still seemed that Norva and her husband Elan had to take charge of everything. From ordering to equipment to shipments and service schedules, there seemed nothing that couldn't get a detail past her grown up kids, who had absolutely insisted they could handle it. So in addition to being babysitter to their kids, she had to hold her own adult childrens' hands and guide them step by step through all the management tasks and processes they already should have known by now. The busier the farm's season, the more time mama needed with her big hammer.:: ::Anyway, it was spring, at least. The farm was beautiful this time of year, with breezes that alternately warmed or cooled just right, the smell of rich dirt tilled up wherever you went, and the fresh scents of green plants growing from every direction, just about to ripen and blossom. It did make you feel good to be able to walk around the fields in a light jacket, taking in the farm for its scenery as much as its technical aspects. The barn animals were out and about, making their various calls in the yard. And vast fields of grains stretched in every direction, as far as the eye could see.:: ::Norva paused in her work to look out the open barn door, to smell the fresh air that came just this way every year this time. This was the time of year, almost exactly to the day, that her Ren loved most, so it was fitting that this was the day he was coming home.:: ::Norva's heart almost stopped, and she tore the goggles from off her head, casting it and her project aside as she rushed to close up the shop at the sudden realization.:: Norva: Oh for the love of-- This is the day Ren's coming home! ::In a panic, she closed the barn door and ran up the yard towards the main house. She'd barely done a thing to prepare. No one had made up any of the beds, no one had planned any meals, she didn't even know if anyone had called the other kids to tell them he was coming. They were supposed to be famous for their Arnmere hospitality around here, but as it stood, she hoped Ren's friends liked planting crops, because no one had even thought about entertaining them.:: ::She rushed into the house, the big old sprawling complex with its generations of add-on wings they only jokingly called a farmhouse, and found Elan, her wiry, silver-haired husband, napping in a chair. She dumped him out of it.:: Norva: Ren's coming! Starfleet's coming! ::She barely formed a sentence as she ran past and into the house. She was covered in saw dust and grease. She didn't have a clue how she was supposed to entertain whatever crew of space-traveling friends her son brought home with him.:: Elan: 'S 'at TODAY? Shoot! ::With no complaint about being dumped from a comfortable nap, Elan scrambled to his feet and ran in the other direction. Norva hoped he was going to call the others back from their work planting fields in those giant hovermachines. It was Ren who insisted they get those, and then he'd left them. And now all this fuss over him coming home. He should have stayed here in the first place and then they wouldn't always be short a man.:: ::At least the grandkids were at school today. Except the baby, but his mother had him in town just then. And Aunt Metzi was tucked in her chair, a relic as old as she was, wrapped in blankets of psychedelic patterns, looking fine with an elaborate updo and heavy eye makeup like they used to wear way back in her day. Of course no one else was around. The took and they took, and then as soon as she needed them, there was no one around to help.:: ::At least, now that she rushed to inspect it, the house was in its typical modern-day order. By the time Ren or any of his friends beamed onto the wide, welcoming front porch, their rooms would be ready, rooms enough for as many as cared to stay. She was always a little bit frustrated with her son and his decision to leave them for Starfleet, but any friends of his were very welcome on the farm, and she hoped they were going to enjoy themselves, and if any of them wanted to help with planting, well, she wouldn't turn them away.:: ::It was spring, and as usual, life at Tro'Arn was busy, and Norva had a lot on her mind. Foremost now was the thought of real Starfleet officers visiting her home. What was she supposed to say to a Starfleet captain? How was she going to keep the neighbors from nosing in all day each day and pestering them?:: ::What was she going to say to Ren when she saw him?:: ::Still, his friends were welcome here. They would have the run of the house, the fields, the village.:: ::Then she heard the whine of the transporter outside, and remembered she hadn't thought to clean herself up. It didn't matter. She put on a smile and bravely went out the door. Unprepared as she was, Norva had no idea what to say to a Starfleet officer, but "Welcome" came to mind.:: LtCmdr Rendal Rennyn Chief Ops & Helm Officer USS Darwin NCC-99312-A A239102RR0 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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