Silence Of The Hams

the middle, nearly covered with other projects in various stages of completion. A clay model, sketchpads, some colored chalk, and poster-board took up most of the surface. Three sides of the rooms were windows and had glass shelving with plants everywhere. One whole large window had spectacular African violets. Another was cacti and succulents. There were bonsai trees, radishes growing in cut-down milk cartons, and something that looked like an experiment in hydroponics. A sweet-potato vine started near the kitchen door and worked its way entirely around the room.
    They had to make their way around a sewing table, spinning wheel, and loom to get to the table, where Patsy was hastily clearing a spot for them to sit without their elbows in a project. It was a fascinating house reflecting an enormous variety of interests and skills.
    “I know it’s a mess, but it’s my house,“ Patsy said with a laugh. “When I turned fifty, I decided I was entitled to live any way I wanted without apology. It was tremendously liberating. My late mother-in-law used to give me a cleaning service every year for my birthday and they always quit within the month because they couldn’t stand all the stuff. There, I think that will give us a little space. Jane, you can sit over here, just watch where you step.”
    Alarmed for a second, Jane glanced down. Pushed up against the wall by the chair was a cardboard box containing a fluffy towel, a big tawny cat, and four of the cutest kittens Jane had ever seen. “Oh, how pretty they are!“ she said, squatting on the floor. “Will the mother let me touch them?“
    “Only if you give her a good petting first,“ Patsy said. “They’re Abyssinians. Aren’t they lush little guys?”
    Jane sat down cross-legged on the floor and played with the kittens while Shelley and Patsy started going over the basic outline of the high school graduation night party. Patsy had charts showing who reported to whom, a day-by-day plan for the year that put the most elaborate “Plan Your Wedding“ chart to shame. She had notebooks for each committee and subcommittee, which gave the entire history of their work from inception, all suppliers they’d ever used with assessments of each, and annual budgets balanced down to the last penny. There were scrapbooks that captured each graduation party in pictures, boxes of ribbons and buttons that identified the workers, and small plastic containers of attractive tiny lapel pins to reward the workers. Patsy had had her collection of pins made into charms on a bracelet, which she showed them with. well-deserved pride.
    Jane was far more interested in the kittens, who were now climbing around on her, but got the impression from what she overheard of the conversation between the other two women that Patsy thought all this organization was not only easy but fun. And Shelley agreed. The strongest of the kittens had climbed up the front of Jane’s T-shirt to her shoulder, and after studying her ear with great concentration, licked her earlobe with its tiny emery-board tongue. Jane’s heart turned into marshmallow goo.
    By the time the kittens started to tire, nearly an hour had passed. Shelley and Patsy were winding up their overview of the graduation night party’s history and methods. Jane tucked the exhausted kittens into the box where the mother cat had been calmly sleeping, and joined Shelley at the table. Patsy was putting away notebooks. “What did I miss?“ Jane asked with a guilty grin.
    “I signed you up for six committees,“ Shelley said. “You don’t need a personal life, do you?“
    “You’ve been talking to my kids if you think that.“
    “Actually, Patsy thinks I might be good as junior co-chairman of the food committee and you’ve agreed to assist me,“ Shelley said. “You do agree?“
    “I wouldn’t think of disagreeing with the two of you. Patsy, there are people like you and Shelley who like running things, and people like me who will do anything Shelley tells me to—“
    “Not quite anything,“ Shelley murmured. “I told you a white winter coat was a waste of money.“
    “—but,“ Jane continued, “there are a lot of people who can’t stand being told what to do by anybody. How on earth do you manage? Everybody seems to come out of this still liking you.“
    “Kindness,“ Patsy answered. “Deadly kindness. There are plenty of people who don’t like me, but since I’m so terribly, terribly nice to them, they can’t quite