Every Day the Same as the Last

Each day blended into the next; every day was the same as every other day. It usually meant getting up, getting breakfast, then heading out; either to work or to the garden. If it was the weekday, it was Braden getting up and getting out to work to whip his squadron into shape, If it wasn't, Braden was heading off to the greenhouse and letting his dad get some well-needed rest.

River, likewise had things to do: namely melting scrap metal to an art-piece. Luckily she was high enough in her sculpting skills to not set herself on fire.

...or if she wasn't sculpting she was keeping her music skills up.

When Braden had come in from talking to plants, he pillow-fought with his daughter, Karina. At least it left them both with good feelings towards each other, though it seemed as though each of them rattled each others brain cages pretty good.

That night, it looked as though the weather was about to change...

In the morning it was back to the grind again.

Of course, sometimes tasks were changed up...and River went out to milk the cows.

Haruo took care of the laundry and then practiced some board-breaking in martial arts.

Karina played Skee-ball, Braden went out to talk to plants, River painted and Greta decided to play around with potions.

Haruo also practiced his painting and when the kids were back home from military school that afternoon, they were promptly reminded that doing one's homework diligently prevented the 3Ps - PEE-POOR PERFORMANCE! Of course Braden used much more vulgar terminology.

Let's just say that neither Colin nor Karina wanted to get on the wrong side of their dad; you didn't tee off a Colonel in the Royal Canadian Air Force. And doing their homework promptly meant that they got more privileges too, like being able to play before going to bed.

Y'know stuff like dressing up as prince and princess? And well, those little toy trunks had more stuff shoved in them than Mr. Dressup's Tickle Trunk (it's a Canadian reference for those of us Simmers who are Canucks who are old enough to remember him - alas...no Casey or Finnigan toys).

...again it was time for bed...after yet another day of the same old same old...

...every day the same as the last...