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Mrs. Thalia Ludlow knew one thing about her (step-) granddaughter, little Miss Edwina Ludlow: rain or shine, and at every opportunity, eight-year-old Edwina was going to get her life, and it really didn't matter who thought what about it.  

Mrs. Ludlow observed Edwina getting her miniature tool belt out even before nine-year-old George had left to go on the food run with their grandfather, Capt. R.E. Ludlow, and the instant the captain and George headed down the road, the front porch became something of a construction site, complete with a ribboned-off area.

“What are you doing?” baby brother Lil' Robert asked with his usual five-year-old boldness.

“Getting my life together.  Please don't touch anything.”

“Can I help?”

“Yes.  Go distract the others.”

Lil' Robert smiled and went to do exactly as he was told since making noise and a scene was something he excelled at, to the point that someday he would dominate large stages.

Mrs. Ludlow, the adult, was not distracted, however, and just quietly observed as Edwina moved her grandfather's morning coffee table where she wanted it, wedged up her umbrella between her grandfather's big porch chair and the wall for shade and taped it for security, made a big fan out of some pink construction paper and put that on the table, then went and changed clothes into her sunglasses, swimsuit, and robe, went into the kitchen and got some lemon water and then a little Junior Geographic magazine from the living room and then put them on the table, and then climbed up into the chair, picked up the fan, and looked like anybody's miniature fashion model, elegant and unbothered, for the next hour, sipping her lemonade, reading her magazine, and just relaxing.

“Looks like Greta Garbo out there as a brunette, about to say 'I want to be alone' – so I'm going to let her do what she is doing and relax for a little while, and then go see what is going on.”