Nesting: the Nursery
It is a peculiar sort of day, threatening clouds alternating with a cheerful sunshine, and overall unseasonably warm. All the windows (barring the ground floor and the greenhouse, for obvious reasons) were open, letting what passes for fresh air in the city of Boston to clear out some of the winter funk. That had prompted a bit of early Spring Cleaning, with all the beds being stripped and their linens turned into massive loads of laundry. Thank goodness for sending it out, to professionals who can handle huge quilts and grape juice stains.
Then Ali's nesting instincts (because what else could be responsible?) turned to a new topic: the nursery. Already on its second baby, the room was looking a bit worse-for-wear. Ali intended to have it repainted (and recarpeted) before the twins would be in residence, and although she had no desire to rush Amaris out of the room, she wanted to be as prepared as possible for later. There'd be no end of additional stress and tears if she tried to decide these things later, she knew.
So there Ali was, sitting on the nursery floor, surrounded by the necessary tools of home decoration. At least, she could be assumed to be somewhere in amid the fabric samples and paint chips...
Then Ali's nesting instincts (because what else could be responsible?) turned to a new topic: the nursery. Already on its second baby, the room was looking a bit worse-for-wear. Ali intended to have it repainted (and recarpeted) before the twins would be in residence, and although she had no desire to rush Amaris out of the room, she wanted to be as prepared as possible for later. There'd be no end of additional stress and tears if she tried to decide these things later, she knew.
So there Ali was, sitting on the nursery floor, surrounded by the necessary tools of home decoration. At least, she could be assumed to be somewhere in amid the fabric samples and paint chips...