The lights burn to brighten the rooms this January morning while the sun hides behind wintry clouds.
The pellet stove hums warmth into the room, and the humidifier fan hums its moisture up against the dry heat, and Spice sings merrily, making up cleaning songs from Christmas tunes as she and Nice wipe houseplant leaves. Nice likes the job so much that she requests daily plant-cleaning privileges, and suggests that they sing to the plants, too.
Lil' Snip has abandoned his Legos for the joys of cushion fort building, busily wedging pillows against stools set against the sofa. Sugar's task - dusting the miscellaneous glassware in the china cupboard - inspires her to converse with Spice and Nice in an imitation British accent.
The sky outside is dim; snow is in the forecast. I hope it comes - it will bring the birds, first, and I want to see if they eat the berry and nut suet I made for them.
It might as well snow: We have a borrowed dvd, plenty of light and music, and nowhere else we have to be.
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