Free Butter Safe Than Sorry by Tamar Myers Page A

muttered.
    I gave my friend the Mennonite version of the Evil Eye, which amounts to a twitch followed by a glassy stare. "I couldn't agree more," I said. "There are those who would kill to get their hands on that most exclusive, that most prized, of all DNA, which must surely be lurking in those sheets; I should be charging one hundred percent over the nightly rate, not fifty."
    The foreigner's green almond-shaped eyes grew as round and large as gingersnaps. " Borat slept at your inn? I take!"
    "Why, Magdalena, you dirty dog, you," Agnes said, but I could hear the admiration in my friend's voice.
    As the old saw goes, those who assume, make a donkey out of everyone--or something like that. Believe me, I have long since made peace with being an equid, or some part thereof.
    "Do we have a deal?" I said.
    "Dah!"
    "Then let's get this show on the road; time's a-wasting."
    The regal stranger seemed to withdraw, not unlike a turtle, into the safety of her velvet and furs. "What show ?"
    "It's just an expression, dear, an Americanism."
    "And if you stay very long," Agnes said. "I'm afraid you'll be treated to a great many original Magdalenaisms."
    "Thanks a lot, friend."
    Miss Surimanda Baikal emerged, smiling. "Ah, you are the Golden Girls, no?"
    "Excuse me?"
    "Like the TV show. Only this one"--she pointed to Agnes--"is more healthy, like a good Russian babushka, and you are like the crabby one, Dorothy."
    Agnes twittered behind a plump, healthy hand.
    "I don't watch television," I said archly. "And be forewarned, my dear, although I have the patience of Job, I have the memory of Methuselah--well, at least I hope he kept his wits about him all those years. My point is that although I am a good Christian woman, and was born and bred amongst the gentle folk known as Mennonites, hereabouts it is said that I possess a tongue that can slice through a stick of butter left outside on a tree stump overnight in the dead of winter. Alas, this is no mere metaphor." I paused to catch my breath and lean forward for emphasis. "Furthermore, there is room for only one of me at the PennDutch Inn--perhaps even in all of Hernia--if you get my drift."
    Miss Baikal hadn't stopped smiling. "This is threat?"
    "Oh no, dear, just a statement of fact."
    Agnes suddenly inserted a great deal of herself between me and the exotic stranger. "Magdalena, why would anyone leave a stick of butter out on a tree stump overnight?"
    "What?"
    "You just said--"
    I stepped around her. "You will follow my rules, Miss Surimanda Baikal?"
    The beautiful visitor grinned broadly. "Dah, I like rules. Is very Russian!"

9

    "If that woman is Russian," Peewee Timms said, "I'll eat my hat."
    It was all I could do to keep from revealing to Peewee that the thick black man-made thatch atop his head looked very much like a hat: a scaled-down version of the bearskin hats the Beef-eaters wear when they guard Buckingham Palace. Peewee had signed up for general barn chores, but had expressed a special interest in working with my two cows.
    Matilda Holsteincoo III and Miss Cowabunga (my newest acquisition), like females everywhere, are quite discerning when it comes to who gets to squeeze their teats and when. As Mose had taken the day off, and Peewee wanted the "hands-on" milking experience, rather than use the electric machines, it fell to me to be his instructor (Freni was chained to the stove, and the only contact Gabe wants with a cow is on his plate).
    "Put your head right up against her stomach; she likes knowing that you're there. Gently caress her udder before sliding your fingers down her teats," I said. "Now start squeezing with your thumbs, then your index fingers, middle fingers, ring fingers, and so on. The point is that you are gently pushing the milk down-- away from her. Concentrate so that you don't accidentally start squeezing the other way. Get a rhythm going."
    "Does it hurt?"
    "It hurts her to have a full bag. It's like you and a full bladder."
    "Yes, but--"
    "She's a