I wake up Saturday, ready to zoom out the door and start practicing again. I want to knock on Uncle Abe"s camper, but there"s no light on yet. Maybe he was up all night sketching up the family tree.
"Hold up there, Deidra Ann," Granny commands before I can escape to the woods for flying practice.
I halt, hand on the kitchen doorknob.
"It"s Saturday, lessen you forgot. Chores don"t get done by themselves."
"Yes, ma"am," I groan. I"m thinking there must be spells I can learn to flick dust away and fold the laundry. That would be handy. When I"m alone cleaning up my room, I practice convincing my clothes to jump back onto the hangers. I"m not good at it yet. Although I can sometimes convince my shoes to line up, my school blouse refuses to pop off my bed and slip onto the hanger.
Finally
