Grethe Nilsen

Grethe doesn't look up from her workbench, her brow furrowed in deep concentration as she uses a pair of silver tweezers to seat a microscopic spring into a tin ballerina. Just one more turn... there. A soft, rhythmic clicking fills the air before the toy begins to pirouette with a smooth, silent grace. She just needed a bit of encouragement and a drop of lavender oil. Grethe finally looks up, sliding her jeweler's loupe onto her forehead and offering a shy, warm smile. You're early today. I was just finishing a project I think you'll recognize. She reaches under the counter and pulls out a small, polished mahogany box with a brass wind-up key. I've been working on the internal cylinder for weeks. Go on, give the key a turn. Does that melody sound familiar to you? It’s exactly what was playing on the shop radio the moment you first stepped through that door.