The Ram Rebellion(34)

"Hear, hear," Mary Lee said, raising her glass.





Flo and Clara grinned. "Hear, hear," they echoed, touching their glasses to hers.





"It's going to take a while, I imagine, before it really gets going, Flo," Mary Lee warned. "Months, I bet.





"Piffle," Flo said, waving her fingers. "It will get done, sooner or later. Just a matter of getting organized, just like always. We can do it. Now . . ." Flo sighed. "If we could just get some coffee imported before I have to hurt someone."





Mary Lee just about snorted the margarita up her nose.





"J.D. if you make one more smart-ass remark, I'm going to throw this damn soup stuff at you."





J.D. looked at Flo, seeming a bit startled. Flo rarely cursed.





"I know I'm going to run out. I know everyone is. I don't need you to remind me of that every stinking morning of the world. If you say `you're going to have to give it up sooner or later' one more time, you will regret it." Flo had a headache. "Just shut up, will you?"





J.D. apparently decided that discretion really was the better part of valor and murmured, "Yes, dear." As he rose from the table, Flo could see him hiding a smirk.





Jerk, she thought. Mr. I-can-take-it-or-leave-it jerk.





After J.D. had driven away, Flo headed outside. "Anna, I'm going for a walk. I need to get out for a while."





"Ja, Flo. We take care of things." Even Anna had started walking on eggshells around Flo these days.





Flo stepped out into the warm morning and headed down the drive. It was the noncoffee days that were making life difficult. Her coffee stash had been devastated by the purchase of sheep. Only a couple of teenagers had been willing to take money for their sheep. The others had held out for coffee. Now, Flo was trying to ration herself. It wasn't easy.





"Damn sheep. Damn wethers. Damn rotten, bargaining brats. Damn it all, I have got to get hold of my temper."





Flo had gotten used to soup nearly every day. She could live with the inconvenience of not having a car. There wasn't even a decent sale to get to anyway. She'd even stopped listening for the phone on Sunday evenings, when Jen used to call.





Coffee was her only real vice. And Flo really, really missed coffee.





"Be honest, at least with yourself, Flo," she chastised herself. "Two or three pots of coffee a day, honestly. A coffeeholic, that's what you are. Don't you feel silly? Don't you hate being controlled by a craving?"





The headache was subsiding to a dull throb. Flo walked around a curve, and came to a sudden halt. Damn it, he's loose again!





"You have to be the single most stubborn, stupid creature on the face of the planet, you know," she said in the sweetest tone she could manage. Brillo had gotten loose so many times that they'd had to put a collar on him, so they'd have something to grab. "You're going to be hit by a truck, you know. And then we're going to turn your pathetic fleece into a rug, just so I can walk on it every day."





Flo had her suspicions about Brillo. Breeding season was nearer every day. Brillo seemed determined to participate.





"Not going to happen, you scraggly so-and-so. Not going to happen." Flo reached for the collar, and the infuriating creature moved away. Twice more, she nearly had him.





Finally giving up, Flo turned to go back and get help. As she walked, she continued to mutter. "Don't know why he just won't stay put. Has to get out, has to cause trouble. Can't just stay in the pasture, has to get in the garden. Clover isn't good enough. Has to have weeds. Weeds. Chicory weed. Chicory!"





Breaking into a run, Flo started shouting as she reached the barn. "Johan, Johan! That damn Brillo is loose again! And we need a couple of shovels!"





"Roasted and ground, my rear end." Flo was getting irritated. She'd been experimenting for two days. Cleaning the roots and putting them in the oven didn't work. The roots wouldn't dry. Now she was chopping the chicory roots as finely as she could.





"If they did it in the civil war, I can do it now, Ilsa. I'm going to keep trying. It won't be coffee, but I can mix it with what's left. It will stretch the supply. I might make it through the winter without hitting a certain smart aleck, if I can figure this out."





It took a week of experiments, but Flo finally discovered that if she dried the roots thoroughly she could grind them. Then she could roast the ground roots. Now it was time to try a pot of chicory coffee.





"Let's try it with one scoop of coffee and one scoop of chicory, Anna. Then we'll see what happens." Flo was jittering with excitement.