Kaapo, a little annoyed at Ari's complaining, replied sharply, "Yes, it does stink. And, yes, the waterproof stuff stinks more than the other. But both hold the plies together to make the plywood. And the stinkier glue doesn't come apart when wet. They had the plywood mill before they had the paper mill and they've got to have the glue to make the plywood. Without the mills, they wouldn't be putting in housing and wouldn't need water pipes. So be happy it stinks, because without the mills we wouldn't have a job."
"We don't use all of what we make."
"So? Some of it gets shipped out. They tell me Germany doesn't have more trees than they know what to do with, like we do. Just be happy we only smell it when the wind is blowing this way," Kaapo said. "Can you imagine what it smells like in the glue plant? I am not knowing how it is those people go to work there every day, boiling down fish heads."
Ari continued to complain. He either did not catch the sharpness of Kaapo's reply or he didn't care. The first, just not listening, was a character flaw. The second was an egregious character flaw. Other than his habit of turning complaining into a high art, Ari was a fine fellow and a hard worker. "Adding the milk curds to make the waterproof glue is a waste and a shame. It could be made into cheese."
Kaapo explained again, patiently. "They only use the curds from the flocks grazed on cut pine greens."
"It could make cheese."
"Have you ever tasted goat cheese made from goats being fed on pine needles? I'd have to be mighty hungry before I'd eat it. Pine-flavored goat cheese is horrible."
"People are going hungry."
"Not as many as before. The mill girls are eating. The charcoal burners are eating, the goatherds and dairymaids are eating. The loggers and the mill workers are eating. Lots of people have work they didn't have before the countess opened the mills. Like you, for instance."
This didn't stop Ari from complaining. "I wish we didn't have a glue shop."
"If they stopped making glue, they would shut down the plywood mill and put people out of work. How are people who are not working going to buy cheese? So making cheese will cause people to go hungry."
Ari tried to follow the twisted logic. Somehow making more food would cause more people to go hungry. "Can you run that by me again?" Ari asked.
Kaapo ignored the request. "Why am I explaining things you already know? Why are you complaining about things that must be? I think you just enjoy complaining."
"Hey," Ari replied, defensive, "I'm just making conversation."
"Well," Kaapo complained right back. "If you can't do it without complaining, then just shut up, work in silence, and let me enjoy the quiet."
"You call this quiet? The only time it's quiet is when the borer is not turning and then we are too busy to talk."
"Okay then. Shut up and let me enjoy the noise."
Ari snorted. "And who is complaining now? And it's still not right to be making glue when you could be making food."
"Did you not hear me about shutting up? Did you not hear me about what pine cheese tastes like? Do you not know we could use ten times as much waterproof glue, and would make more if there were more curds than they can get off of the new flocks? Have you not heard the countess refuses to buy more curds because it should be made into cheese, which she does buy, by the way. Where do you think the smelly white cheese in the company store comes from?"
Ari countered, "They could feed the goats elsewhere."
"No, they could not!" Kaapo's knew his voice was louder in annoyance. "Goats are already being grazed anywhere goats can graze other than in the old forests where grazing is poor. The new flocks are eating the pine needles off of the trees that have been felled. Now shut up and sweep up the shavings."
Ari set the broom and dust pan down and loosened the clamp in the tail end as the shaft was backed out. Working with Ari was easy, as long as you stayed on top of things, and the production bonus was nice. Ari had the strength of two men and he would be the perfect partner, except he complained all the time.
****
Kaapo went home to his wife Sanna. She had a cup of hot broth waiting for him to warm him up after the cold walk home from the pipe shop. Kaapo took a sip of the broth and listened to his wife. She was speaking Finnish and it sounded a whole lot better to his ear than the German, Finnish, English mongrel tongue he used and heard used every day in the mill.
Sanna took one look at him and said, "You had a bad day. Did things go wrong again?"
Kaapo took a sip of the broth, "No, everything went right. Ari sees to that. But he just won't shut up. I think I will ask for a new partner."
"What if they put you back with Ville, or someone like him? You had to work a lot harder because Ville is lazy and you never got a bonus."
"True. But at least he'd shut up. Ari doesn't just talk constantly. He's either complaining or he's asking the same questions over again."
Sanna looked at him. "Seems to me you complained about every partner you've ever had. You've gotten a bonus every month since you started working with Ari."
"There is that. The money is nice. I just wish he'd shut up."
"Kaapo, we need the money. I could go back to working the bag line, but they'd make me stop in a few months."
"They would? Wh . . . You don't mean you're pregnant?"
Sanna smiled a radiant smile which only an expecting mother can smile.
Kaapo smiled back. "You're right. We will need the money. I will just have to put up with his chatter."
****
It was Saturday. The foreman announced it would be a short day. "We're making bowls today."
Ari, his tone of voice making it a complaint asked, "Why?"
The foreman, who put up with him because he brought up the production rate for the shift, answered, "Hey, it's your fault. We're ahead of orders."
"I hate doing those dinky little bowls," Ari complained.
"Tough," the foreman answered. "It's what we've got for the day."
"Why are we making bowls anyway?”
Ari was not the only one asking that question.
****
Countess Anna Marketta Bielke asked her business manager, Kristiina von Houwaldt, “Kristiina, I have been reviewing the production reports. Why are we making more wooden bowls when we have a warehouse full and we aren’t making money on them?”
“Anna-” The countess encouraged a casual attitude with her employees, such as she had observed while staying in Grantville. “The pipeline does not have enough orders to keep it in operation full time. The orders are coming in slowly and they are increasing. In time we will go to three shifts, but for now we run bowls to keep the men busy. It’s a break-even project. Most people carve their own bowls or buy them from someone in the village who does it as a winter job. Our main buyer is the army.
“It is just like the paper bag line. We don’t make much if anything on it but it keeps people working which keeps them from going hungry. It is in keeping with policy.”
“Could we make something else? Cups, maybe?”
“We couldn’t sell cups any better than we do bowls. The bowls will sell eventually. And eventually we will be exporting enough pipe that we won’t have time to make more bowls. We’d have to retool to make cups and we can’t justify the expense.”
****
"Sanna," Kaapo called. But his wife did not answer. The pot on the stove was boiling over. Kaapo rushed to set aside the pot boiling over on the stove. "Sanna," he called again. He heard a noise which might be his name coming from the bathroom they shared with the three other apartments in the log building. It was so much nicer to share a two-hole flush-plumbing indoor bathroom with showers than to share a two-hole outhouse. The door to the washroom opened. Sanna, looking very pale came in. She looked immediately at the cook stove, turned around and ran back to the toilet. Kaapo followed to the sound of retching.