Another Year In Moominvalley
Title: Another Year in Moominvalley
Chapter: Chapter 3
Author: Cousin Giry
Spoilers: Mostly for Moominpappa At Sea and Moominvalley in November
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: The Moomins and their valley belongs to Oy Moomin Characters Ltd. I'm not making any money of this.
Chapter three
Snufkin came walking down the path. He was in no hurry, but he didn't drag his feet either.
His harmonica begged to be played, begged for an overture to start spring, so Snufkin
took it out and began to play a song about spring brooks jumping and sparkling in the sun.
And there was the bridge over the stream. Behind the trees one could see the house. There
seemed to be a lot of people standing in front of it. Snufkin saw Moomin and My standing
next to a sled. And with them was that odd kid who'd shown up at the house last year.
What was his name again? Toft? Yes, Toft it was. Moominmamma and Moominpappa were there
too.
Snufkin crossed the bridge and opened the mailbox. There he found a letter, which he opened
and read. It was a good letter; short and to the point, as usual. Then he put up the tent
in his usual spot next to the bridge. Moomin walked up to him while he was working with
the tent, and waited quielty until Snufkin had put his backpack inside it and closed the
flap.
Hello, said Moomin.
Hello, said Snufkin.
Then they were silent. Moomin had so much to say that he didn't know where to start.
Up at the house Moominpappa began to organize the salvage mission. He saw his son and
Snufkin stare silently at each other and realized that they would not be interested in
carrying crates and casks right now. Moominmamma saw it too and said that they would come
down to the beach when they were ready.
Well, Moominpappa said, let's go down to the beach and see what the sea have brought to our
shores!
And so they walked down to the sea, leaving Moomin and Snufkin behind.
Hurry up! said My before she ran off after the others.
Moomin and Snufkin sat down next to the tent. Snufkin lit his pipe and listened while
Moomin told his story.
Father went nuts one day, said Moomin, and he took us to a light-house where the light
were out.
And then the whole story came pouring out of Moomin. Snufkin listened while Moomin told
him about that tiny hut he had built among the bushes and beautiful, fickle, sea-horses
and about Moominmamma painting a garden in a room in the light-house. And about Mominpappa
trying to measure the sea and cage it inside numbers. And about the fisherman, who was the
real light-house keeper.
But Moomin saved the most strange thing for the last. The Groke came to the light-house
island, he said, and I think I made friends with her.
Snufkin's jaw dropped and his pipe fell out of his mouth.
That's what happened, said Moomin, she went after the petroleum lamp since she wanted the
light. And I kept meeting her and I brought the lamp since I thought she wanted that, but
then, when there were no more petroleum to put in the lamp, I went to meet her anyway and
she wasn't angry. There was no light, but she wasn't angry. Then she danced.
And then what? Snufkin asked and picked up his pipe.
We kept meeting said Moomin, then Mother and Father and My and I went home. I told the
Groke that she could come with us, but she didn't come to the boat when we left. She can't
freeze things anymore, see.
Snufkin opened and closed his mouth.
The light-house keeper had lit the light-house by then, said Moomin.
And the Groke stayed? Snufkin asked.
Yes, said Moomin.
And then they sat for a moment in complete silence, neither knowing what to say next.
Then Snufkin asked if My knew about the Groke.
Yes, said Moomin, but she was the only one who did. The whole island was scared of the
Groke. The trees and the bushes tried to crawl away. Even the sand moved, but Father thought
that the island was scared of the sea, or somethng like that. And I don't think Mother
cared.
Strange, said snufkin.
Moomin nodded.
Down at the beach Moominpappa found long poles, with hooks in one end, at the boat-house.
Everyone got one each and were told to mind the sharp points on the hooks. They reached
out as far as they could to hook a crate or a small barrel that was bobbing along in the
water. My, who was to small to handle such a hook, was asked to keep an eye on
Moominmamma's handbag.
When one of them had managed to get a crate close enough to the shore, the others would
rush there with their own hooks to help in pulling it out of the water. Toft managed to
salvage a small barrel by himself, by hooking it and then rolling it up out of the water.
Moominmamma had counted to two crates, of which only one was broken, and three barrels,
all whole, when Moomin and Snufkin arrived on the path from the valley.
Hello! Moominpappa said, look how much of the wreckage we've managed to salvage to-day.
And there's still more out there.
Moomin nodded.
Could I take the rowing-boat, he asked, and Snufkin and I could shepherd the ones still
out there towards the beach?
What a great idea, said Moominmamma.
And so Snufkin hooked barrels and crates and pushed them towards the beach, while Moomin
was manning the oars. The smaller ones he could lift up in the boat, but the larger ones
just had to be gathered and sent towards the shore, despite the waves.
At the very end of the day they were all tired and hungry, but pleased since they had
managed to salvage another three crates, five small barrels and a few smaller boxes of
different kinds. Which made, all in all, five crates and eight barrels plus some
miscellania, as Moominmamma put it.
And they had opened the crates to check what was inside them. Mostly whisky in bottles, but
also some wine. And most of the bottles were whole. Moominpappa had knocked on the barrels
to hear if they were still full, and they were.
Then, of course, came the question of where to hide the wreckage.
In the cave, said Moomin.
In the forest behind the house, said Toft.
Under the house, said My.
How about using all three of them? Moominmamma said.
Moominpappa, who relished the excitement of hiding things, thought that Moominmamma's idea
was the best one. And the others agreed.
Moomin and Snufkin rolled up six of the eight barrels to the cave and put them as far in as
they could. Moominpappa and Mooinmamma used a wheelbarrow to transport four of the five
crates to a very hidden place in the forest behind the house. Toft and My carried the
smaller boxes to the house.
The rest of the salvaged wreckage from the sea was hid behind the wood-shed. Neither
Moominmamma nor Moominpappa said why they had split up the finds like that, and the
children and Snufkin didn't ask.
The next day, which was sunny and warm, Grandpa Grumpy woke up. At first he thought he was
still dreaming, but when the large fish with the pearl crown didn't show up again, he
decided that he indeed was awake. Who would want to dream about the boring insides of an
old wardrobe?
Blinking the grit out of his eyes, he turned a couple of times, just to check that
everything was still there and hadn't walked off during his winter sleep. Then he sat up
and opened the wardrobe door. He found the hip-flask that he'd taken with him last year
and took a sip, just to refresh himself.
He crawled out of the wardrobe and tottered down the stairs. The stairs wasn't as steep as
they had been in november, but he still took every step with care.
Moominmamma was in the kitchen, doing the dishes, and that strange child was with her,
drying the plates and the spoons.
Good morning, said Mooinmamma and handed another glass to Toft.
Good morning, said Grandpa Grumpy.
There's still porrigde in the pot, if you want, said Moominmamma.
The old man nodded and sat down by the table while Toft spooned up some porrigde in a bowl
and set it down in front of him.
Where's the spoon? asked Grandpa Grumpy.
Oh! Here! said Toft and gave him the spoon he just had dried off.
Grandpa Grumpy muttered his thanks and ate his breakfast in silence. Then he pushed away
the bowl and told anyone who might be listening that he was going out to fish.
Moominmamma told him where to find the fishing rods and asked him to see if Moominpappa
could go with him out to the boat-house. The fishing was better there.
Grandpa Grumpy nodded and walked away to find the fishing rods.
A short while later Moominmamma saw Moominpappa join Grandpa Grumpy on the path to the sea,
both of them carrying fishing rods and a basket to carry fish in.
At least he's not getting bored today, she said to herself as she put away the last of
the plates.
Chapter: Chapter 3
Author: Cousin Giry
Spoilers: Mostly for Moominpappa At Sea and Moominvalley in November
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: The Moomins and their valley belongs to Oy Moomin Characters Ltd. I'm not making any money of this.
Chapter three
Snufkin came walking down the path. He was in no hurry, but he didn't drag his feet either.
His harmonica begged to be played, begged for an overture to start spring, so Snufkin
took it out and began to play a song about spring brooks jumping and sparkling in the sun.
And there was the bridge over the stream. Behind the trees one could see the house. There
seemed to be a lot of people standing in front of it. Snufkin saw Moomin and My standing
next to a sled. And with them was that odd kid who'd shown up at the house last year.
What was his name again? Toft? Yes, Toft it was. Moominmamma and Moominpappa were there
too.
Snufkin crossed the bridge and opened the mailbox. There he found a letter, which he opened
and read. It was a good letter; short and to the point, as usual. Then he put up the tent
in his usual spot next to the bridge. Moomin walked up to him while he was working with
the tent, and waited quielty until Snufkin had put his backpack inside it and closed the
flap.
Hello, said Moomin.
Hello, said Snufkin.
Then they were silent. Moomin had so much to say that he didn't know where to start.
Up at the house Moominpappa began to organize the salvage mission. He saw his son and
Snufkin stare silently at each other and realized that they would not be interested in
carrying crates and casks right now. Moominmamma saw it too and said that they would come
down to the beach when they were ready.
Well, Moominpappa said, let's go down to the beach and see what the sea have brought to our
shores!
And so they walked down to the sea, leaving Moomin and Snufkin behind.
Hurry up! said My before she ran off after the others.
Moomin and Snufkin sat down next to the tent. Snufkin lit his pipe and listened while
Moomin told his story.
Father went nuts one day, said Moomin, and he took us to a light-house where the light
were out.
And then the whole story came pouring out of Moomin. Snufkin listened while Moomin told
him about that tiny hut he had built among the bushes and beautiful, fickle, sea-horses
and about Moominmamma painting a garden in a room in the light-house. And about Mominpappa
trying to measure the sea and cage it inside numbers. And about the fisherman, who was the
real light-house keeper.
But Moomin saved the most strange thing for the last. The Groke came to the light-house
island, he said, and I think I made friends with her.
Snufkin's jaw dropped and his pipe fell out of his mouth.
That's what happened, said Moomin, she went after the petroleum lamp since she wanted the
light. And I kept meeting her and I brought the lamp since I thought she wanted that, but
then, when there were no more petroleum to put in the lamp, I went to meet her anyway and
she wasn't angry. There was no light, but she wasn't angry. Then she danced.
And then what? Snufkin asked and picked up his pipe.
We kept meeting said Moomin, then Mother and Father and My and I went home. I told the
Groke that she could come with us, but she didn't come to the boat when we left. She can't
freeze things anymore, see.
Snufkin opened and closed his mouth.
The light-house keeper had lit the light-house by then, said Moomin.
And the Groke stayed? Snufkin asked.
Yes, said Moomin.
And then they sat for a moment in complete silence, neither knowing what to say next.
Then Snufkin asked if My knew about the Groke.
Yes, said Moomin, but she was the only one who did. The whole island was scared of the
Groke. The trees and the bushes tried to crawl away. Even the sand moved, but Father thought
that the island was scared of the sea, or somethng like that. And I don't think Mother
cared.
Strange, said snufkin.
Moomin nodded.
Down at the beach Moominpappa found long poles, with hooks in one end, at the boat-house.
Everyone got one each and were told to mind the sharp points on the hooks. They reached
out as far as they could to hook a crate or a small barrel that was bobbing along in the
water. My, who was to small to handle such a hook, was asked to keep an eye on
Moominmamma's handbag.
When one of them had managed to get a crate close enough to the shore, the others would
rush there with their own hooks to help in pulling it out of the water. Toft managed to
salvage a small barrel by himself, by hooking it and then rolling it up out of the water.
Moominmamma had counted to two crates, of which only one was broken, and three barrels,
all whole, when Moomin and Snufkin arrived on the path from the valley.
Hello! Moominpappa said, look how much of the wreckage we've managed to salvage to-day.
And there's still more out there.
Moomin nodded.
Could I take the rowing-boat, he asked, and Snufkin and I could shepherd the ones still
out there towards the beach?
What a great idea, said Moominmamma.
And so Snufkin hooked barrels and crates and pushed them towards the beach, while Moomin
was manning the oars. The smaller ones he could lift up in the boat, but the larger ones
just had to be gathered and sent towards the shore, despite the waves.
At the very end of the day they were all tired and hungry, but pleased since they had
managed to salvage another three crates, five small barrels and a few smaller boxes of
different kinds. Which made, all in all, five crates and eight barrels plus some
miscellania, as Moominmamma put it.
And they had opened the crates to check what was inside them. Mostly whisky in bottles, but
also some wine. And most of the bottles were whole. Moominpappa had knocked on the barrels
to hear if they were still full, and they were.
Then, of course, came the question of where to hide the wreckage.
In the cave, said Moomin.
In the forest behind the house, said Toft.
Under the house, said My.
How about using all three of them? Moominmamma said.
Moominpappa, who relished the excitement of hiding things, thought that Moominmamma's idea
was the best one. And the others agreed.
Moomin and Snufkin rolled up six of the eight barrels to the cave and put them as far in as
they could. Moominpappa and Mooinmamma used a wheelbarrow to transport four of the five
crates to a very hidden place in the forest behind the house. Toft and My carried the
smaller boxes to the house.
The rest of the salvaged wreckage from the sea was hid behind the wood-shed. Neither
Moominmamma nor Moominpappa said why they had split up the finds like that, and the
children and Snufkin didn't ask.
The next day, which was sunny and warm, Grandpa Grumpy woke up. At first he thought he was
still dreaming, but when the large fish with the pearl crown didn't show up again, he
decided that he indeed was awake. Who would want to dream about the boring insides of an
old wardrobe?
Blinking the grit out of his eyes, he turned a couple of times, just to check that
everything was still there and hadn't walked off during his winter sleep. Then he sat up
and opened the wardrobe door. He found the hip-flask that he'd taken with him last year
and took a sip, just to refresh himself.
He crawled out of the wardrobe and tottered down the stairs. The stairs wasn't as steep as
they had been in november, but he still took every step with care.
Moominmamma was in the kitchen, doing the dishes, and that strange child was with her,
drying the plates and the spoons.
Good morning, said Mooinmamma and handed another glass to Toft.
Good morning, said Grandpa Grumpy.
There's still porrigde in the pot, if you want, said Moominmamma.
The old man nodded and sat down by the table while Toft spooned up some porrigde in a bowl
and set it down in front of him.
Where's the spoon? asked Grandpa Grumpy.
Oh! Here! said Toft and gave him the spoon he just had dried off.
Grandpa Grumpy muttered his thanks and ate his breakfast in silence. Then he pushed away
the bowl and told anyone who might be listening that he was going out to fish.
Moominmamma told him where to find the fishing rods and asked him to see if Moominpappa
could go with him out to the boat-house. The fishing was better there.
Grandpa Grumpy nodded and walked away to find the fishing rods.
A short while later Moominmamma saw Moominpappa join Grandpa Grumpy on the path to the sea,
both of them carrying fishing rods and a basket to carry fish in.
At least he's not getting bored today, she said to herself as she put away the last of
the plates.