Sims player fourteen generation deep into a legacy. Here's their story! Also, art and builds.
And here we are… the Windenburg Museum. Used to be my favorite place in the world, and even now, sick with anxiety, I have to stop and marvel at its beauty under the layer of snow the blizzard has left behind. It’s still snowing, but here in Windenburg, the snow is now delicate, soft, magical.
For a minute I forget all about being anxious and everything is perfect again. How can you not feel at peace in such a landscape?
I think this moment, this exact moment, as I’m struggling against the wind to even cross the street in front of my house, hoping the cars can see me through the fog, is the first time I realize, I want to be able to choose if I want to do this or not.
In the meantime, though, I’ll have to keep bracing myself against the overzealous snowflakes whether I like it or not.
The morning rises on my first day back to work, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s a blizzard outside.
My house, our house, looks impossibly inviting. In fact, it looks perfect. But alas, I simply cannot stay in.
How I wish I could.
It’s 2AM and I can’t sleep.
Tomorrow I have to go to the Museum for the first day after the winter break, which The Boss made clear I was not allowed to miss.
The only thing that keeps me sane is the thought that no one can make me get out of my underground office if I don’t want to. I’ll just keep working there.
In the meantime, what does one do when one can’t sleep?
Study old vases.
At least it gives me the focus to stop my hands from shaking. I really don’t want to go.
Cyril also feels excluded, but he’s a teenager, that’s how he’s programmed to feel.
Mom and Gram are spending more and more time together these days. And it’s always the same thing — they hush the minute I walk in, they exchange glances that wouldn’t look out of place in a spy movie, but from what they’ll let you hear, or see from afar, it looks captivating.
If I’m being completely honest, I’m sort of jealous. I know Gram is Mom’s grandmother before she is mine, and I know that obviously, they had a close relationship decades before I could say the words “great-grandmother,” but still. I feel excluded, and excluded by two people who’ve cherished me all my life, to boot.
I also feel bloody curious.
There is no denying that Nounou is getting older. Mom has to leave in a hurry, before Gram has even gone home, because he is sick again. In the middle of the Winter holidays, at such a late hour, the only place that will accept them is the Brindleton Bay Pawspital and its emergency care.
Somehow, even in the middle of the night and while you’re scared for the life of your pet, the place still manages to look warm, happy, and welcoming.
I guess that’s part of their customer service.
Anyway, Nounou is fine when he leaves, and that’s all that matters.
My excuse for being away for two weeks?…
EERRRRrrr… Uni? I let it get the better of me and give me anxiety again. I jumped into the simming community in part so that I would remember to leave some space for my hobbies in my life, yet here I am.
BUT I’M IN THE MIDDLE OF MY ONE-WEEK HOLIDAY AND I CAN BREATHE AGAIN, SO HERE COME THE POSTS.
In a desperate attempt to hear even a glimpse of what they’re saying, I put on jacket and hat and walk up to Gram and Mom.
Of course they change the subject the second I’m in earshot. Even Loladorada.
Next time, next time I’ll know more.
At this point I really don’t know what Gram is telling Mom, but it’s clearly making an impression on her. Twists and turns, perhaps even more than in this first episode we just watched.
The Stewarts Family (and other shenanigans) 