looking like a model for the cover of "Life Begins at Forty." I'd been apprehensive before, but I was downright quaking as I watched her slim, pale-blue figure coolly evaporate the distance between us. But she was all grandma as she delightedly hugged and kissed us both and sighed what a nice, pleasant vacation she was anticipating. I shivered inwardly and exchanged glances with mother. All the way home Grandma's bright conversation gleamed in tune with her world of correctness and ease so very different from the one I was used to. But I could only hope my zany family would be an all-American brood for the duration of her visit which didn't seem very likely. Grandma was visibly shocked at the strange, snoring forms scattered over the living room rug. She gingerly stepped around them with apprehensive looks as we led her to mother's room. Angie was kicked out to fend for herself. We could tell that Grandma wasn't enthusiastic about a third sleeping partner. Nothing bothers my sister, however. She merely curled grog-gily up in the hall with a stuffed animal for a pillow and the blanket I generally use for sunbathing. In the morning Grandma had another shock when all the additions began rolling out. Everyone was overjoyed to see her and she was practically mauled. At breakfast she was probably convinced we were all haywire, but she kindly refrained from saying so. Everything was in its normal uproar, and last night's energetic results were fast disappearing under happy clutter. She dissolved into tears when Tico sweetly brought her the gold fish and tenderly laid it in her lap. Charles quickly rescued it, not much the worse for wear, and we talked for an hour to get reprieve from the lingering death she felt the bewildered pup deserved. She decide to take a relaxing bath to settle her jangling nerves, but her shocked yell brought us running and more trouble for Tico she had found him nursing his wounded pride in the tub. Mother disinfected it with a suffocating mixture from a handy jug of clorox, depleted our hot water for a steamy bubble bath, then shooed us out and left Grandma soaking with returning good cheer. Tico began to bark angrilly and leap at the closed door. We finally had to muzzle him. Keeping every one of us soundless at the same time is a virtual impossibility, but we managed for half an hour by passing a quick law condemning the first person who made any noise what so ever to washing the car for a month. It all ended when Grant tripped over a broom with his arms full of records. He accused Chuck of pushing, which Chuck flatly, although hesitantly, denied. The free-for-all which followed was glorious. Soon every able-bodied person was happily grappling with anyone he could catch, except mother, who loudly and insistently ordered a complete stop to it all. When order was finally restored, we saw Grandma standing in the doorway clutching her duster and viewing with open alarm the disorder we had created. We stared back, then at each other. There's no telling what might have happened next if the phone hadn't rung. In two bounds we were all where it hung precariously on the wall rather under in an interesting heap of arms and 14 legs. By the time we untangled, she had retreated. A new emergency unfolded in the discovery of one of Angie's escaped female hamsters making a home for her rapidly coming family in Grandma's suitcase. We tried explaining that this often happened, and we avoided complications by keeping clothing, or any soft material, inaccessible and closed away, but it was finally too much for her; she delivered a stern lecture on decorum and manners, then pushed us out and slammed the door. We looked at each other in surprise and, for once, silence. She stayed in her room the rest of the day. We unwitting culprits wandered around morose and silent. Even the usually shrieking parakeets were still. Lunch and supper were dismal of-fairs; nothing was spilled or broken and we only consumed a bare fraction of our usual groceries. During the long northern winters darkness falls early and intensely. We like to stay outside as long as the sharp cold permits to watch the changing heavens shift in ever beautiful patterns over the still country and brightly lighted houses. Not knowing what else to do, Chuck, Mukluk, and I went out and sat on the steps. The Northern Lights arched and glowed, muted in eerie green, or brilliant with flaming emeralds, as they slowly snaked, like shaded curtains, across the smoky sky. They have always seemed to me to be symbols of this people and this land. They are wild and in their unleashed beauty form a laughing bond with each other. We watched their curling, rippling antics for awhile; then Chuck asked, "Why is Grandma mad at us? What did we do?" "Honey," I answered, "I guess it's because we don't have enough inhibitions. We love each other and our friends. Most people want to be a part of us; that's why they're always over here." I pointed at the fading Lights. "We're like they are; when we feel like dancing, we dance; we haven't learned to control laughter when it bubbles inside, so we just let it overflow. But Grandma doesn't see it that way; all she sees is the clutter and confusion." He nodded gravely. Inside, we could hear Lorraine at the piano belting out a rocking rendition of Peter Gunn, so we went to join what was fast becoming a jam session. Beaver was strumming his guitar-Grant had the Congo drum, and Angie was pounding the bongos. Mother's voice joined ours in "Yellow Bird" as she dished cookies and pudding. A warm feeling around the region of my heart spread through me as I picked Kit up and hugged her. Everyone was forgetting to be quiet, and as we swung into the second roof rattling chorus of "I've Been Working On The Railroad" I saw Grandma's door open. She stood there smiling gently, then joined in with a steady soprano. The music lulled in surprise, then everyone grinned, Grandma winked, and it swelled with deafening heartiness. She understood. 15