Bundaflicka Bags

I've got three on the machine, two cut out and waiting to start. That's it for this bundaflicka ("country girl" in Swedish for those unitiated). My Swedish Opa would come out to the wilds of Somerset County, New Jersey, from Brooklyn (where he settled with my father and aunt) and call me Bundaflicka. It was prophetic. I was told later by Swedish people that I didn't spell it right, but that's how I heard it with Opa's thick Swedish accent. (His favorite news man was Yim Yensen). Makes it even more my word. Anyway, I will spend the last day of vacation sewing these bags and wrapping/cutting up soap. Thank the Force that people will still pay good money for a bar of handmade soap. I heard a rumour that Annie might come swooping down from the sky to help me in Maryland, but it looks like she's been seduced by the Kentucky Derby. The Canadian Mounties are sending their best woman and we'll be fine. Libby Llop is putting us up in her luxury horse trailer apartment. Anyway, I'll try to explain to my animals that Mommy has to leave them to go back to work tomorrow. I'll tell them that I'm working to keep their tummies filled and a roof over their heads. First day back is always rough. The kids are not acclimated to the classroom environment, neither are we, and supervisors have been there all week planning God-knows-what. Gotta deal!