Welcome to the Grove, Zaldamo; or
Here’s Mud in Your Eye
(a recap by Will Kaiser)
Title: “Back to School” [sic], Part Two
Airdate: September 24, 1979
Written and directed by Michael Landon
SUMMARY IN A NUTSHELL: In the aftermath of the cinnamon-chicken holocaust, Laura gets punked, Nellie gets slimed, and Almanzo gets a knuckle sandwich.
RECAP: The show wastes no time jumping into a Previously-On, so neither shall we. The question is, will it be as over-detailed as usual?
Well, I’ll start by saying it goes on for four minutes, an eternity in today’s TV time. It covers a) Albert dressing up for the teacher; b) Albert’s disappointment with Eliza Jane’s looks; c) the sheet falling on Mrs. Oleson; d) the restaurant walkthrough; e) “Who’s going to do the cooking?”; f) Laura meeting Manly; g) “Lord-a-mercy, what’s this thing weigh!” and the accident; h) stoned shirtless Charles; i) Doc telling Garvey Charles won’t be able to work the harvest season (yep, over-detailed); j) the “crisp pancakes!” scene; k) Ma abandoning Baby Grace in the dining room; l) Charles freaking out whilst being spoon-fed; m) the dinner invitation; n) “Mrs. Oleson, I do not work Sundays and that is final” and Laura volunteering; o) the cayenne switcheroo; p) Nellie and Almanzo vomiting together into the sink; q) “Oh, Zaldamo!”; r) the cake in the face; and s) Nellie’s tantrum. Not quite A to Z, but pretty close.
Oh, there’s also t) “If I had a remembrance book.”
DAGNY: Oh, fuck you and your remembrance book, Laura.
WILL: Oh my God!
DAGNY [laughing]: Well, I’m sick of that goddam book. She keeps bringing it up every three months or so.
WILL: I can tell this is going to be a good session.

Well, we open with Ma driving the Chonkywagon into town.

The Grove is busy today, with a number of men wandering the thoroughfare and Carl the Flunky sailing by in the Yellow-Wheeled Buckboard.

Before we can find out where Ma’s going, we cut to the classroom, where Willie is standing in the corner. Clearly this two-parter can’t get enough of putting Willie in the corner.


This is in fact the tenth story where Willie has gone to the corner, which seems to me a thing worth celebrating.












Albert, who in case you’ve forgotten is a math genius, and I’d forgive you if you did, is doing some sort of complicated equation on the board. (This show has always wildly overrepresented the math skills of the Grovester youngsters.)






I won’t bother going through the roll call today, because it’s exactly the same group as in last week’s episode. (I wish that happened more often.)

Eliza Jane asks for another math volunteer. Andrew Garvey must need to use the privy, because he raises his hand, hahahahahahaha!


(I know, poor Andy.)

Anyways, he never gets called on, because at that moment Caroline comes into the school. So this was her destination.

With a hint of steel in her voice, Ma asks if Laura may be excused so they can have a little talk. (Laura goes white as a sheet at this.)

Ma brings her outside and down the steps.
DAGNY: Like two torpedoes.

Ma reminds Laura/informs the audience that the disastrous cinnamon chicken dinner happened just last night.
Ma has figured out Laura switched the cinnamon on purpose. She even produces forensic evidence of the crime.

Seeming more annoyed than angry, Ma says Laura will need to apologize to Nellie Oleson.
Meanwhile, at Nellie’s Restaurant & Hotel, Nellie is wailing and weeping and wearing Puff-Sleeve Pinky, and Harriet is gnashing her teeth.

(So is Nels the only one who minds the store, now? I suppose he’d have to be; and he probably doesn’t mind one bit.)

Mrs. Oleson tries to give Nellie some tea, but either Nellie is beginning to throw another tantrum, or the one she threw last night hasn’t ended yet.
“Oh!” Mrs. Oleson cries as Caroline and Laura enter, then she says Bracknellianishly: “What is that child doing here!”


With some prodding, Laura apologizes.
DAGNY: Laura’s wearing a lot of makeup this year. They must have taken the makeup budget they would have used for a pretty teacher and put it on Melissa Gilbert instead.

Nellie seems genuinely surprised to learn Laura spoiled the food on purpose. (See, Ma, she would have gotten away with it.)
DAGNY: Arngrim has such a unique delivery. It’s more than just Canadian.

WILL: You’re right. I bet Landon thanked God every night he picked a girl who grew up to be able to act, be sinister, do comedy, you name it. . . . It doesn’t always turn out that way.
DAGNY: No, it doesn’t.

(Don’t get mad, you know I love Care-Bear.)
Mrs. Oleson gasps theatrically, then tsks her tongue about a dozen times.

“What a cruel thing to do!” she says. “If you were my child, I’d have you horsewhipped, young lady!”
She adds, “Within an inch of your life!” (fairly unnecessarily).

DAGNY: Ha ha ha, that’s rich. Okay, let’s review the bad things Nellie’s done and the supposedly horrible punishments she’s gotten.
WILL: Okay.
DAGNY: “The Music Box.” What was her punishment in that?
WILL: Nels beat her.
DAGNY: Well, maybe this isn’t such a fun game. . . .


Ma gives Mrs. O a look, but she knows she isn’t serious and says, “Laura will be appropriately punished, Mrs. Oleson.”

“Well, I should hope so, Mrs. Ingalls!” Harriet snaps back.
Ma takes Laura outside and says Almanzo is next on the apology tour.
But Laura screams “I won’t!” and suddenly runs away. I really wish I had tracked people suddenly running away from the beginning of this series. It would be too complicated to go back and add all the past instances now.


David Rose gives us cliffhanger music that’s downright cataclysmic, even for him.

That night, Laura does not return for dinner.

DAGNY: Is Pa still being spoon-fed?

Pa sends Albert to bed; then suddenly Bandit, who hasn’t had anything to do since that horrible bird pecked him on the head, starts whining at the barn door.
DAGNY: Who’s in there? Is it Zaldamo assaulting Laura?

Pa calls Ma to have a look.
DAGNY: Seriously, what is it? A hobo?
WILL: You wish.

WILL: Maybe it’s another rabid animal.
DAGNY: You know, those were the days on this show. Now romance is taking over.









But the barn door opens to admit Bandit, and it’s clear Laura is actually just hiding out there.

Pa goes out to the barn, and sternly accuses Laura of being “a little girl” hiding from punishment.
Laura flips out about everybody thinking of her as a little girl.

As always, Pa immediately drops the sternness and goes all mashed-banana.

Laura says, “Ma wanted me to march right over to Almanzo’s to apologize, like a baby.”
Then she adds, horrifyingly, “Well, I’m not a baby anymore! I’m a woman!”


Pa says, “You’re hardly a woman yet, Half-Pint,” and then Laura flips out about that too.

Unwisely, Laura says, “Almanzo doesn’t call me ‘Half-Pint,” and reveals The Great Zaldamo has given her “a woman’s nickname.”
Stupid Chuck doesn’t really pay any attention to that, though.
“You never called Mary a silly nickname like that,” Laura goes on – quite correctly.
But rather than point out the truth, which is that he doesn’t like Mary as much as her, he claims Mary has no nickname because she’s older. (How does that make sense?)


Grasping at straws, he adds that Mary is a married teacher, and says when Laura’s a married teacher, she can decide what she wants to be called too.
(It won’t shock you to learn I am a pro-nickname person. Back in the nineties, my social circle would have made Bertie Wooster proud, including as it did a Gussie, a Danno, a Crispy, a Toppy, a Flaps, a Pig, a Ratty, an Aardvark, a Swordfish, a Moby, a Bullywug, a Cabbage, a Pickle, a Pasty, a Bean Sprout, a Jo-Jo, a Car-Car, and many, many others. At least one of these was a nickname for me! But you’ll have to guess which one.)

(But I have come to accept that these days people prefer to choose their own appellations. I respect that; and so I never use nicknames to anyone’s face anymore.)
(Except Pasty.)
Pa says Laura will still have to apologize to Almanzo.
WILL: I’m not sure about the etiquette of this. Laura’s actions only harmed Almanzo by way of Nellie, so making her apologize to him seems a lot to ask. Nellie’s already explained everything to him and apologized.
DAGNY: I agree.

But Pa says she can do it on her own, without a chaperone.
He brings her up to the house.
In bed, Ma whispers to Pa that Laura’s in love with Almanzo, but Pa laughs this off.

He admits, though, to being bothered by the whole “Beth” business.
Ma perceptively identifies the Freudian undertones to Pa’s annoyance, and he responds, “I’m just a concerned father who’s worried about some old man hanging around his daughter!”
Ma says she doesn’t suspect Almanzo of ill intentions, but Pa sits up brooding about it.
The camera retreats outside, but we can still hear this hilarious little piece of dialogue:
PA [with contempt]: “Beth”! . . . I just don’t understand why he calls her Beth, that’s not even her name! He ought to call her Half-Pint!
LAURA [from upstairs]: You call me, Pa?
MA: No, dear. Your father’s just having a nightmare.
(Ha! I’d rank this script pretty high amongst the show’s successful comedies.)

DAGNY: Why is Pa so shocked? She’s the same age Mary was when John was sniffing around.

WILL: True. Plus she’s had boyfriends before.
DAGNY: Yeah, PROPER boyfriends, that she had over for dinner and everything. Remember that goofy Scientist?

WILL: Yeah, and the Apple Boobs kid, who wanted her to be a lesbian, then changed his mind? He kissed her!
DAGNY: Well, yeah, but Ma and Pa didn’t know about that.

After a break, the school vomits. I wonder how many times on average they filmed the kids leaving school per episode? I bet some have four separate shots of them pouring out the door.

Willie remains in the schoolroom writing on the blackboard.

Laura approaches Eliza Jane and declares she wants to take the teacher’s exam.
DAGNY: Oh my God. . . .

Eliza Jane says sure, once she’s graduated next year, she can take it; but Laura demands to do so ASAP.
Surprised, Eliza Jane says she could give Laura the graduation exam herself, and then she could take the teacher’s exam.

WILL: But I thought Nellie had to go to Mankato to take that?
DAGNY: She did, but that’s because Alice Garvey didn’t have a teacher’s license. That’s why Eliza Jane’s there in the first place. Mrs. Oleson reported Alice to the state.

Laura insists she can take the graduation test with little preparation. Eliza Jane is surprised, but she shrugs and says okay, saying the exam has three sections: math, vocabulary, and history.
DAGNY: This is such a dumb idea.

Cut to the Feed & Seed, where Not-Richard Libertini, Bret Harper’s Underling Rod, and Carl the Flunky are lowering a plow from the loft by ropes.
DAGNY: Didn’t Charles’s accident teach them not to do stupid shit like this?


It seems like a conflict of interest for Carl and Rod to work at both the Mill and the Feed & Seed. They are the only two competitive businesses for miles.
Well, never mind. Anyways, for the first time, I think, we see a sign on the F&S that reads S.E. Miller, Prop. S.E., huh? The show has been dropping clues about this Mr. Miller like breadcrumbs ever since he was first mentioned in “‘Here Come the Brides.’”


Manly is also working there. Laura appears, and he says “Afternoon, Beth!” in his gee-whiz Eric Shea goonbag voice.

Laura apologizes, and gives a not-too-convincing rationale for her joke.

“Well, I don’t expect I’ll ever be lookin’ at cinnamon chicken again without my eyes waterin’!” Almanzo says.

He then confesses that he was grateful to escape Nellie’s clutches.
Ol’ Gopher Fangs is delighted, and suddenly runs off – out of happiness, this time.

Laura runs along the Creek as David plays that loungey “Love is a Manly Splendored Thing” tune again.
DAGNY: Ooh, woodblock. Who does David think he is, Gerry Rafferty?

Laura stops at her sweetheart tree, where she kisses the initials she carved last week and says, “Thanks for not bein’ mad! I love ya!”

At dinner that night, Ma and Pa are baffled by this sudden “become a teacher” plan.
“Laura, children don’t teach school, adults do,” Pa says, fairly unkindly.
Laura calls him on this bullshit, saying he’s always blabbing about how he dropped out of school at twelve to begin life as a man.
Albert confirms that Pa is in fact always blabbing about this topic.

Pa says that was different, because at twelve he was “the man of the house.” (He’s obviously exaggerating, since by his own account Lansford was a stable parental presence through his childhood.)

“It’s not the same with women,” he finishes up, which makes Ma call him on his bullshit.

Ma pointedly points out she’s the only adult in the household working at present.
Waggling his finger hilariously, Albert confirms this fact as well.

Ma is alarmed, though, that Laura wants to jump into taking such a difficult test. Laura says she’s got two weeks to study.
WILL: Does she mean the graduation exam, or the teaching test? I can’t imagine the graduation one is that difficult, given the parade of morons we’ve seen come through this school.





















Laura says she plans to borrow Nellie’s advanced books to help her prepare.
Pa disapproves, but nicely says he won’t stand in the way of anybody who’s got her mind set to try.

Then Laura asks him not to call her Half-Pint in public anymore.

This of course would be a heartbreaking moment for any parent. We were pretty lucky that our kids never went through much of a period of embarrassment around us. (I know it’s hard to believe.)

Pa is obviously pained by Laura’s request, but agrees.

Then he adds, “Of course, right now we’re not around any other folks, so I want you to finish your greens . . . Half-Pint!”
This is a really sweet moment, played well by Landon. Pa makes a joke of it, but there’s a bit of a hesitation there too, and you can tell he’s worried she’ll say she doesn’t want that anymore either.
But Laura laughs happily and says, “Yes, sir.”


The next day, or whenever, the kids are scampering back to school, and inside Nellie’s, we see Nellie eating a piece of cherry pie (with her hands, ha!) whilst Ma sets tables and Laura asks about borrowing Nellie’s textbooks.

Sadistically, Nellie makes Laura literally beg to be forgiven for the cinnamon chicken thing, right in front of her own mother.

Ma softens the moment, though, by rolling her eyes and looking like she’s going to laugh.

Nellie forgives her and says sure, she can come to the house and borrow the books. “Can you get along without me?” she asks Ma, who replies, “I’ll do my best, Nellie.”


In the living quarters behind the Mercantile, then, Nellie hands over some big math and vocabulary books.
Laura asks what about the history section, but Nellie says there isn’t actually a history section.

(Others have pointed out, quite fairly, that Laura isn’t really stupid enough to fall for this.)


Laura takes the books and goes, as we see Mrs. Foster in the background waiting to be attended in the store. (It’s her turn to wear the Medieval Peasant Woman hat today.)

Then we get an exciting musical moment: the return of “Mary the Nerd”!

No, I don’t mean Mary the Nerd the character. She’s still absent.

I mean “Mary the Nerd” the musical masterpiece by David Rose. A fan favorite, often played on a harpsichord or something like a harpsichord, this theme originally signified Mary’s descent into evil as she lusted for a dictionary – the prize for another “special examination” back in Season One.

Since then, it’s morphed into a sort of all-purpose “academia” motif.
David clearly remembers its original intent, though, since he brings the melody in on a closeup of a burning lantern . . . just like the one Mary kicked over when she almost burned down the fucking barn!


(Mary’s relationship with fire, already frightening in its intensity, will get still more complicated this season.)




In this instance, the tune accompanies a montage of Laura studying whilst doing chores.
DAGNY: How’d they get that book to stand up?

Like Mary, she falls asleep mid-cram.
DAGNY: Is she really sleeping? She looks like it.
WILL: Well, Melissa Gilbert, you know. Talk about l’étoile!

But Pa prevents disaster this time by extinguishing the lamp before she can kick it over.

The “Nerd” montage apparently covered two whole weeks, because suddenly, it’s the day of the test.
Pa says he’s going to walk to town, and Albert tries to amuse Baby Grace with a little dollee.

The kids run out, but Ma calls Carrie back when she forgets to close the door.
DAGNY [as CARRIE]: “Oh, damn!”


Later, we see the Sharp-Faced Brother and Gelfling Boy practicing synchronized trotting, or something.

Kids are following them at various speeds, sort of like in a 5K fun run.

Laura stops to harass Almanzo before school.

Almanzo, then, out of nowhere kisses her on the forehead!



WILL: Oh my God! Back then they’d round up a posse if you did that to a girl you weren’t related to!
DAGNY: You’ve got to stop. Yes, it’s inappropriate, but you’re going to be doing a lot of objecting this season if you mention it every time.
Laura goes gaga and runs off.

But Nellie slinks in like the Skeksis Chamberlain, having seen and heard all.


Nellie continues throwing herself at Zaldamo, but he dodges her advances, more or less.

Meanwhile, across the street, the Mill seems to be going strong under the supervision of Jonathan Garvey.

Charles, Caroline, and Grace appear. (Ma came along with Pa, on foot? Two miles, with the baby?)

At school, Eliza Jane hands Laura the test.
And, to the accompaniment of insane buzzing music from the Rose, Laura notes with horror that a third of the test is, in fact, on history.

After a commercial break, we see Nellie in the restaurant kitchen, stealing food that Caroline made for the customers.

Nellie heads to a barn from which Almanzo is forking hay. Presumably this is the Wilder residence.

Nellie shouts up to Almanzo that she’s brought him some cookies.
Almanzo says he’s working, but she can leave them for him.
Nevertheless, Nellie persists!

Annoyed, Almanzo says he’ll come down if she’ll cook lunch for him. He says there are some kidneys in the house just waiting to be cooked.

Nauseated by the prospect of eating kidneys (I like them well enough, myself), Nellie decides to leave instead, saying she has to go back and cook the lunches for her customers instead.

This scene doesn’t make much sense, since Nellie confessed to Almanzo during the cinnamon chicken disaster that she can’t cook. Why would she pretend she can now?

Back at school, the kids break for lunch, and Laura brings her paper up to Eliza Jane.
“You don’t have to bother grading me,” she says, then screams “I know I failed!” and runs away.

On the steps she passes Stupid Albert, who chirps, “How’d ya do on your test?”

Laura just continues running, turning east on the shortcut path.

Laura sits down next to a lake and sobs as it begins to rain, and as the oboe player in the orchestra improvises a long solo.

Then she sees Nellie walking along the shore.


Though we have yet to see the Wilder house itself, I would suggest Almanzo and Eliza Jane might live in or near the Old Whipple Place, since it’s near the shores of Lake Ellen, and since Lake Ellen is about midway between the urban core and the Little House.

Lake Ellen is also easily accessed via Shortcut Way.

This also jibes with Almanzo giving Laura a lift home from school last time.

The last time we saw the Old Whipple Place, it was occupied by Amanda Cooper, Toby Noe’s girlfriend.

But it’s likely that Amanda and Toby since moved away, or, more likely, died of anthrax.


Anyways, Laura and Nellie spot each other. You’d think Nellie would know better, but she can’t help making a beeline for Laura to gloat about spoiling her test results.

Nellie also tells her she was just lunching with Almanzo.
Laura then seizes Nellie and drags her towards the water.
DAGNY: Oh my God, it’s Severance!
WILL: Yeah, it’s the ORTBO! [as JOHN TURTURRO:] “MISTER MILCHICK!”

Laura throws Nellie into the muddy shallows, jumps in, and tries to drown her.
DAGNY: Yeah! Beat the shit out of her! This is where all the Winnipeggers from the North End would stand up and cheer.

As a Great Little House Moment, it stands up very well.


Anyways, Almanzo drives by. He can’t believe his eyes.
DAGNY: Welcome to the Grove, Zaldamo.


We pretty much see the entirety of the “lake,” which appears to be the size of a large swimming pool and has no plants whatsoever growing around its edges. We’ll just pretend we didn’t notice that for now. (There are enough lakes in the Little House on the Prairie Universe.)
Manly drags Laura out of the water as Nellie raises her head from the mud like a hydra.



WILL: Was she blinded in one eye? Now they’ll have to open a Half-Blind School.
DAGNY: She’d look good in a patch.


After hurling some good insults (“You’ve got a face like a can of worms!”), Laura tries to attack Nellie again, but Manly stops her.

He conveys her onto his buckboard whilst David gives us some strange “sweeping the floor” music.

We notice there are some modest buildings near the lake. (Looks like it might be Old Man Brower’s place? The anthrax probably took him as well.)


This might be one of the scores David wrote whilst stoned at three in the morning, because he then gives us a cross between “Old Dan Tucker” and a school fight song as Nellie flails in the mud and screams.



[UPDATE: I love the readers of this blog. Ben writes that the tune I didn’t recognize is a real one called “Wait ‘Till the Sun Shines, Nellie“! Ha!]
[Written in 1905, the song was sung in some movies. It even inspired one itself.]

But it’s perhaps best known for being the song people sing at the New York Stock Exchange on New Year’s Eve.]
[Thanks awfully much, Ben! – WK]

Meanwhile, at Nellie’s, two freeloaders named Charles Ingalls and Jonathan Garvey come in to eat sweets in Caroline’s kitchen.

Ma says she’s gotten word that Laura bombed the test and ran off again.
Before they can fully process this, Harriet Oleson shrieks “Caroline Ingalls!” from off-screen. (I know I’ve said it before, but I love how Harriet is the only person who pronounces Caroline’s name to rhyme with wine.)

Mrs. Oleson brings in Nellie, who’s even muddier than she was in the actual mud. Caroline, Charles and Jonathan burst out laughing.


When they blame Laura, Ma asks why she would have done such a thing. Thinking fast, Nellie replies, “Because I saw her and Almanzo Wilder kissing!”
Pa swallows hard and says “You saw them kissing?” through clenched teeth.
DAGNY: What an idiot.


Pa screams that he’s going to brutalize Almanzo. Mrs. Oleson is delighted by this – I’m not sure why, unless she just finds mayhem and violence worth celebrating as long as it isn’t directed towards her family.


(Also, why did Mrs. O see Zaldamo as such a catch in the first place? Yet another poor farmer, who lives with his schoolteacher sister?)
The Old Dan Tucker march then leads Pa and Garvey towards the Wilder house, and leads us towards a commercial.

When we come back, we finally see the Wilder residence. It isn’t the Whipple house, but rather a modest two-gabled place I’m pretty sure we’ve never seen before.

Still, I’m going to proceed on the assumption it’s in the general vicinity of Lake Ellen.

Inside, the place is rather heavily decorated for the residence of one schoolteacher and one Feed & Seed employee.

There are ferns, paintings, a huge expensive rug, and, very weirdly, a reproduction of the Michelangelo statue of Moses we discussed when we did “The Craftsman”!


There are also several framed photographs, including one of Rutherford B. Hayes. By 1881, Hayes was no longer President, but I’m sure Eliza Jane and Almanzo were thrilled to find a community that’s similarly entranced by his cult.






Shockingly – and I mean genuinely shockingly – Laura is wearing Manly’s bathrobe whilst her clothes dry out back!

Embarrassed Laura explains the no-history-on-the-test sitch to Manly, who stares at her with dazzling eyes of blue.
WILL: This is getting icky. . . .
DAGNY: Shh.

Manly kindly tells Laura that failing the first time is par for the course with tests like these. He mentions Eliza Jane had to take the teacher’s exam three times. (Not sure I believe that, but he is trying to make Laura feel better.)

“You look like the kind of person who wouldn’t give up no matter what,” Manly says.
Then he tells her to smile. I know that’s extremely frowned-upon these days.

But smile at each other they do, and Manly says, “There we go – that’s my Beth.”

WILL: I can’t believe you’re making excuses for this.
DAGNY: Well, I do have a history with older men.
(I am five months older than Dags is. I’m sure that’s what she’s talking about.)
Then there’s a light knock at the door.
DAGNY: Would Pa really knock?
WILL: I’m not sure. Probably not that quietly.

Zaldamo opens the door, and Pa punches him in the face.

Almanzo goes tumbling through the room, knocking over the table with Michelangelo’s Moses on it.



Ignoring Laura’s protests, Pa hits Almanzo again.
WILL: He’s beating him up with one arm?
DAGNY: Well, it is his good one.

Garvey comes in, and together he and Laura get Pa to stop.

DAGNY: Has Charles ever acted as town policeman before?


WILL: But when they need to imprison someone in the ice house, Nels and Carl the Flunky usually tag-team it.


Pa demands an explanation from the dazed, bloodied Almanzo. But it’s Laura who stands up and explains everything, quite quickly.

Pa buys the story. Not sure I would.
[Reader huntergcrosby notes that Laura is clean, so we can infer she actually had a bath at the Wilder place – an outrageously inappropriate notion for the time, forehead kiss or no!]
Almanzo finally speaks, saying he’d never have a romantic interest in “Beth,” since she’s “just a little girl.”
Laura rounds on Manly furiously.
DAGNY: Now SHE’s going to punch him.


Pa helps Almanzo up and apologizes.
Almanzo says, “If I had a little girl, I’d have probably done the same.”
Then Laura screams “Will you both stop it! Stop calling me a little girl! And talking about me like I’m not even here!”
WILL: She should throw the oil lamp into the fire, like Nathaniel Mears. It’s what I would do.



Laura runs out, but not before screaming, “I’m a woman! A woman! And I hate all of you!”


WILL: Poor Garvey!
DAGNY: Yeah, he’s like, “How the fuck did I wind up in the middle of this?”

Then, in an exchange I really don’t understand, Charles pats Garvey on the arm, says, “See ya later, Jonathan,” and exits the house, leaving Garvey behind. He even closes the door! Is Garvey staying for tea, or something?


The minute Charles gets outside, he hears the stern “CHAAAAAAAARLES!” of the righteously roused Caroline Ingalls.

She’s still carrying Baby Grace, and she says, “I couldn’t stay at work.” Not sure this would be a go-home-early-worthy occasion for Caroline, or a walk-a-mile-carrying-the-baby one either.

At home, Laura cries to Ma about the day’s events.
DAGNY: She has a point. This has been a bad day.

Ma gives her a lecture, saying actually, she is behaving like a little girl.
Ma says she doesn’t care about the exam, since “it’s not the first test you’ve failed, and it certainly won’t be the last.”
WILL: . . . “Certainly”?
DAGNY: Ma can be ice-cold sometimes.

But actually, Ma starts discussing the Almanzo situation, quite sensitively.
DAGNY [as MA]: “This is a woman’s life – to be tortured by men all day long every day.”

Ma sensitively says she’s always known Laura’s in love with Almanzo, and says that she and Pa should stop behaving so foolishly.
DAGNY [as MA]: “Step One, stop running everywhere. A lady walks.”

She tells her to go talk to Pa.
WILL: It’s been a while since they gave Grassle a good scene.

Outside, Charles is throwing crap into the creek sadly.

Laura comes out and they apologize to each other.
PA: It was all my fault.
LAURA: It was both our faults.
PA: It was more my fault than it was your fault.
LAURA: Well, it was my fault before it was your fault.
WILL: In a Gilbert and Sullivan opera, this would make a good patter duet.
Finally, they agree the whole thing’s Nellie’s fault.
After an exchange of I love yous, they earn two tags at once by going to a fishing picnic.

Laura also tells Pa to keep calling her Half-Pint.
Voiceover Laura takes over at this point.
DAGNY [as VOICEOVER LAURA]: “The next day, I got my first period.”
Voiceover Laura tells us despite this inauspicious start, she would someday become Laura Ingalls Wilder. They show us the carved initials again.
DAGNY: “L.I.”? Why isn’t it LIW?
WILL: . . . Are you kidding?

STYLE WATCH: Willie wears a new outfit in the corner. (His very own Pinky at last!)

Eliza Jane wears a nice-looking white top and a long brown tartan skirt.

Nellie has a large bonnet in a pretty new pattern, which she wears with a peach blouse/stripey skirt combo.

Charles appears to go commando again.
THE VERDICT: Hugely entertaining. Perhaps recognizing that Nellie was underused in Season Five (I’m sure they got cards and letters), the production team wisely moves her back into the spotlight for this one, and boy does Alison Arngrim deliver. (Her real-life pal Melissa Gilbert too.)
Simultaneously a light comedy, a satire of gender relations, and a (deeply) queasy romance, “Back to School” is as alive as any episode we’ve had so far. It sparkles.
Happy Mother’s Day, and see you next time.

UP NEXT: The Family Tree
For the advancement of one~eyed bitches!😜
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Why, why, why wouldn’t Almanzo just give Laura a ride to her house where she would get cleaned up in her own home?! How could it be at all proper for her to give her clothing to a strange man to wash while she wears his robe? Did she take a bath there? She’s all clean now!
I also feel that the intimate dinner with Nellie was not proper either, especially without a chaperone. And in this episode she’s inviting herself in to share cookies?
I was a fan of the books, and I totally remember being disappointed that they changed everything so drastically. Almanzo’s character was making appearances in a few books already by the time he becomes a main character in “These Happy Golden Years”. Charles definitely liked and respected him. There weren’t any incidents of Charles beating him up, or Laura beating up Nellie. Or Nellie even having a restaurant.
The Laura Almanzo relationship in the books grows very slowly. It takes 2 years before he holds her hand!
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You’re right, and it’s completely ludicrous how Pa deflates after Laura says it was just a kiss on the forehead. Even a kiss on the forehead could/would have been treated as an assault – Zaldamo’s lucky he didn’t end up imprisoned in the dungeon like Jud Larrabee!
Well, thank you for the comment – I realize my focus on the TV show limits Walnut Groovy’s appeal for fans of the books, but I’m delighted there are a few out there reading. 🙂
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I see the books and the series as variations of the theme “1800’s pioneer family named Ingalls.” The tv program gives some of the same satisfaction that you’d get from a soap opera or telenovela. And there seems to be an bit of an echo of “Bonanza”, obviously because of Michael Landon. The two shows weren’t were pretty consecutive, so I assume there had to be an appeal to “Bonanza” fans.
FYI, even though the Laura/Almanzo story disappointed me, I did have a crush on Albert at the time. So the next episode is one of my favorites. I can’t wait for your take on it!
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Aw, thank you. (It’s one of my favorites too.)
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And as for your description of books and show as “variations on a theme,” I think that’s a really good way to look at it. One reason I started this blog was I thought it would be funny to look at Little House with the nerdy obsessiveness of sci-fi/fantasy fans. Regular readers may have noticed I like The Dark Crystal, and in that franchise there’s a movie, a TV show, books and comics, all of which have different flavors. They take the story in different directions, and often contradict each other, and fans debate what’s “canonical” and what’s not. I once met the author of one of the books, and he said he viewed the stories like ancient myths and legends, where each telling is a variation on a myth, rather than The One True Version. Of course, those stories are not based on real people! But I think viewing the TV show in that light is very healthy. 🙂
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Grrr….I either didn’t get an email notification, or I blanked on seeing it. I finally missed WG badly enough to think of it and go searching to see if there was an update!
Ooh, I know one thing: the song David Rose inserts into the show that sounds like Old Dan Tucker and a school fight song is an old song called “Wait Til the Sun Shines, Nellie.”
I know I have mentioned it before, but this two-parter was my introduction to the show, at least my first conscious viewing of it, since I would have been three (or four if I saw the summer rerun). It may also, my cousin pointed out, be my first memory at all. I know I can remember playing outside after, re-enacting the mud fight, and I know we used the exact words “It wasn’t on purpose, was it? Neither is this!” That must have been the height of cleverness to us, my cousins or whoever (imaginary friends?) was playing with me.
I think my young self was taken with Nellie: the hair, the bow, the big eyes, the bigness of everything about Nellie. And of course I loved Laura taking her on.
Have you heard Dean Butler say how he learned quickly, watching these early episodes, that he better learn to get better at the way they did their looping, because almost all dialogue shot outside was looped later, without the benefit of being given playback video or anything, and he cringes at his looped lines in some of these first shows.
Oh, and I think you should give yourself an award for funniest image yet on this blog: the Nellie Institute plaque.
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Thank you, Ben! And thank you ALSO for ID-ing the Nellie tune!!! I will update the post later. We’ve had some other people complain lately about not getting the emails, but I really don’t have any idea why that’s happening or how to address it. Oh, well, glad you missed it enough to come back. DB’s Eric Shea voice is cracking me up in these first stories for sure. ☺️
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