“I hadn’t thought of that,” Ira nodded, finishing up the last of his milk with a smile. “Good idea, thanks.”
It probably wasn’t that the carousel had gotten placed too high up, but moving it somewhere more conspicuous would probably work. Ira knew that the sweet old birds liked a challenge so he’d shunted it in amongst a thick cluster of bric-a-brac on one of the middle bookcases. He’d put it out on a window-side tables tomorrow morning, Ira thought.
.Alida’s comment reminded him that they probably should cycle out the shelves anyways, shift things around for equal opportunity visibility, and clean off all the unappealing dust. Bridget probably wasn’t going to appreciate the disruption of her organization system (which he sometimes suspected was used to hide some of their more intriguing items from potential unworthy customers), but it had to be done eventually. He shook his head to himself, smiling absently. Working at Past Life was an awful lot of fun.
As Staas coaxed his brood into finishing up the last scraps of dinner, Ira piled all the empty plates and excused himself to the sink. By now, his meals with the Mooren household (apartment-hold?) had fallen into the routine of Ira entertaining the kids while Staas cooked, and then doing the dishes and such while the family settled into an evening activity of some kind.