A tease from A Faculty Daughter, chapter three. Not sure which character I love more, Ronnie or Miss Foxie.
“Oh, this old thing! I look like third base today.” Miss Foxie sniffed the breeze. “Thought I might as well keep these geraniums alive, although the first frost will take them soon enough.” Miss Foxy was the faculty meteorologist, more reliable than the radio or television. Folks said she had predicted the blizzard of ’59 when the radio people were still in diapers.
Ronnie sprang up. “Can I help, Miss Foxie?” We watched him make a dozen valiant trips to the spigot with the watering can, staggering under the weight of the water, back and forth, back and forth, sloshing about half the water each time, and beaming at Miss Foxie who spoke softly to him.