Fortitude

My living room is currently occupied by the most prodigious blanket fort I have ever had the privilege to witness.

Through the main doors is the central office and crafting space.

If you proceed down the hallway to the left at the entrance, you will find yourself in the spacious, yet cozy, sleeping chambers.

The modest back annex houses the changing room, affording ample head space for ease and comfort while providing full blanket coverage for privacy.

Larkin, Finn and friend Sage tucked into the fort about midnight last night. They went in and out for triplicate bedtime hugs (and possibly to demonstrate the practicality and hardiness of their creation) before I was ushered off to bed. We had our house fan on, cooling off the house with the night air. I sat at the top of the stairs in the breeze for several minutes, listening to the rise and fall of their voices but unable to decipher individual words. They were speaking softly, almost lyrically, in rhythms that could have been lullabies or ghost stories. I don't often have these squishy moments, revelling in sweetness, but I'm learning to stop and enjoy it when they sneak up on me.