Nim

"Get off that damn horse and help me bring the towels to the barn!" Nim yelled as she hauled a basket onto her aging hip.

Her real name was Cora, but not a soul had called her that in many years. As the matriarch of the family, her children and all the townspeople referred to her as Nim. Grandmothers in Ovandale were all called something similar to Nim; Mam, Pem, or a variation of the sort. Cora liked Nim, though. It was what she called her mother and her grandmother before that.

Affectionate as the name may be, within it held strength, severity, and a keen eye for watching over the ones she loved. With each incarnation of Nim along her family line, the elder's stories were passed down, along with the closely held secrets of sustaining and developing the farmland from which they made their living. Yes, Nim liked the name and would one day pass it down to Caroline, her granddaughter, if ever she got her head out of the clouds.

"Yes, Nim! Coming!" Caroline called back startled from her reverie.

Nim watched the young girl disembark from the grey mare. Her granddaughter was still a little too thin to her liking but lovely nonetheless. Caroline wore a simple blue dress with a plain white apron but still managed to look as regal as the vampires across the sea with her small nose, high cheekbones, and dimpled chin.

Of course, Nim had never seen the vampires across the sea, but she had heard the tales. Unlike the other girls in the village who were all brown hair and brown eyes due to years of the same families marrying into one another, her granddaughter possessed blonde hair to her waist and eyes as blue as the sea. The sea Nim had only seen once in her long life, and she believed her granddaughter was just as beautiful. Beautiful but forceful, headstrong, and at times as serene as the waters.

Caroline hadn't married yet and didn't seem to be bothered by this fact. Nim knew her granddaughter didn't need to match ever if she didn't want to. She would inherit the land that was passed from firstborn female to firstborn female dating back to the beginning of the stories handed down from her mother and her mother before her.

Still, Nim thought, a good man might settle her down a fair bit. She admired her granddaughter, though. She worried as well. She had felt a change coming on the wind in recent months, not the transformation of the seasons but something more significant. Caroline would need to be ready, and Nim had been lax in her preparation.

"Girl, you are as slow as a turtle passing through tree sap sometimes, I swear it," Nim grumbled as the girl approached, taking the basket of towels from Nim's aching hip and settling it onto her own.

"I am sorry Nim, I was riding the length of the orchard and lost track of time, I suppose," Caroline told her as they walked wrapping her arm around her grandmother's shoulder. Slender she may be, but Nim's granddaughter stood a head taller. The older woman watched as the girl slipped her book into the pocket of her dress while still holding the basket. She had carried the small book with her in her dress pocket since her mother died. The gods only knew what she was writing down in there.

"Come, child, one of the cows, is birthing as we speak, and we must attend to her. You have twenty years this spring and still don't know how to look after the animals when spring comes and calves are being born. How are you to take care of the farm when I'm gone?" asked Nim.

"Please don't speak of when you're gone, Nim, you know how it upsets me. Besides, I know most everything now, when to plant, the challenges of seasons changing, and to store for the winter. I've memorized every herb and its use. I've even assisted the healers in town and know how to ease common ailments. Tell me, grandmother," She started counting off the examples on her fingers. "What more do you think I should learn?" Exasperated, Caroline placed the basket down near the cow laboring in the barns open area in front of the horse stalls.

"You don't know how to birth a calf firstly." Mumbled Nim, "Secondly, you have yet to learn the history of our people in Ovandale."

"I'll wager a guess, my sweet Nim." Caroline smiled sweetly. "They were farmers, weren't they?" Caroline retorted, breaking into peals of laughter.

Nim shook her head sitting on a stool next to her granddaughter crouching on the barn floor. She tapped her cane on the ground to get Caroline's attention. "Yes, they were farmers, my child, but sometimes there is more to the ordinary than meets the eye." The cow beside them let out a low moan. Nim could hear the chickens cackling in the yard, and the smell of hay mixed with animal dung was causing her head to ache. She was getting too old for this. " We shall save that lesson for tomorrow, though, eh? Today I will teach you midwifery."

Her granddaughter looked less than enthused about the task ahead but pulled out her book to take notes none the less. Nim nodded in approval. Yes, tomorrow would be the day.