Rose was used to getting up early. The rooster hadn't woken her up; in fact, she was immune to its calls, now simply sleeping through them with ease. Instead, having grown up on a farm, she was all too familiar with being woken up in the wee hours of the morning, feeding chickens, mucking horse stalls, all in time to walk the half mile to her school's bus stop. Of course, that had been when she was younger, as she no longer had to catch that bus, but the principle was still the same. She didn't even need to do the chores she had normally done as a child and a teenager, seeing that their farm was now big enough for them to hire extra hands, but she found her ways to be useful when she could. Rose couldn't stand being idle, which was perhaps another reason why she woke so early. She didn't want to waste a precious second of her time on Earth, and her family knew it quite well.<br/>Thinking of family, Rose rolled over to see that her husband,David, had already gotten up. She smiled fondly. She certainly lived in a house of early risers. Her daughter was probably already awake as well, which meant that Conor and Thomas would be following suit. The only wild card was Alistair, who seemed to enjoy sleep a little more than the rest of the crew. Rose swivelled her feet to land on the plush white carpet on her (the left) side of the bed. "Ooh," she muttered in mild surprise, not prepared for the cold that caused her to let out a twitchy shiver. Perhaps she would have David or Conor check the central heating when they got the chance. While Rose was a homemaker and also knew her way around farm equipment, home repairs such as plumbing and electrical had never really interested her, and later in life when she realized the skill would be useful, she was too busy to take up a class.<br/>After readying herself for the change in temperature Rose stood, letting her silk nightgown flow down around her. She could feel that her hair was a mess, wavy and out of control, the bangs flattened to one side, but she would sort it out in a moment, in the en suite that attached to their room. For now she opened her glasses carefully and placed them on her face, pleased to see that the closer world was a little clearer now. She had had no difficulty seeing until she was around forty years old. With a quick visit to the optometrist her problems were solved. She would have preferred contacts, being as active as she was, but unfortunately they irritated her to the extreme, and she always had unpleasant feelings about things going near her eyes. The glasses made her feel old, but she would certainly rather be old than handicapped in any manner.<br/>Rose was now able to see, and this allowed her to perform one of her morning rituals; turning on the radio that sat on her bedside table. The object also doubled as a no alarm clock, but that function was rarely used. It seemed like an old medium, with both her daughter and son constantly suggesting she move on to YouTube or iTunes to get music, but Rose refused to give in to her children. She would do the rest of her morning routine to the music of the radio (set to a classic rock station) before turning it off when she left.  The song playing as she turned it on caught her ear, and she began humming the words quietly to herself. "...doesn't make a difference... make it..not, we've got each-other, and that's a lot.... Woaaah, livin' on a prayer..." Rose wasn't the best singer, but she wasn't normally too off key. She mostly resorted to humming, and only joined in on full blown singing when it was a complete family car karaoke, where her voice didn't stand out.<br/>Rose started her morning with a usual ten minute stretching routine. She had constantly nagged David to join, but he always seemed to slip away from her grasp. As she placed two firm hands around the sole of her foot she considered asking him just one more time. It felt good to stay in physical shape, but it seemed that David liked to develop his mental strength more.<br/>After her stretch Rose went to the closet that she and David shared. Despite Rose's weak interest in clothes, her part of the closet was still much Fuller than David's. She thought quickly about what she would wear before she grabbed a sea foam green blouse and grey skinny pants. She checked in the mirror a moment, thinking, before reaching for her jewelry box on the middle shelf of drawers in her cabinet and selecting a silver chain necklace with a pink rose charm on it. She liked to wear jewelry sometimes, but often ended up taking it off to work. The one piece of jewelry that never came off was her wedding ring, which was a plain white-gold band. Rose wasn't a fool, and hadn't chastised David for the simplicity of the ring, but was instead a little pleased. She had never wanted to base her marriage on possessions or wealth, and the ring was one of the sure signs of it.<br/>Leaving the mirror, Rose turned to the bathroom to tame her hair and brush her teeth. She played briefly with the idea of having a shower, but then remembered her plans for the day and discarded the notion for a later time. Instead she focused her energy on the brown waves entangled around her head, using water to gently ease the hair back into it's more gentle state. Her bangs we're fixed with a quick brush through. She had kept side bangs for the longest time, but found a hair gel that kept bangs straight and full for months at a time, and decided to try it. Her family had been apprehensive about the new look at first, but eventually grew used to it.<br/>After brushing her teeth Rose left the bathroom, hearing a series of coughs from down the hall of bedrooms that lead to the open kitchen and living room area. The cough sounded much like Alistair, and that cause Rose to be concerned. She would have been concerned no matter whom the cough had come from, but she could now at least confirm that the teen was up and possibly about. Although Rose didn't like to admit it, sometimes looking at Alistair was hard, especially when she had to look into his eyes. They we're all too familiar to her brother's, and it made her heart ache. But then she would focus on his hair, or his chin, some feature that was exclusively his own, and it would remind her that the boy was his own person. She remembered the day Alistair had been brought to their home. Little Alexia had not been pleased with the events at first, the tactless child announcing that a four-year-old was dumb and useless, but eventually free to appreciate her younger sibling. Alexia had matured over the years and wasn't quite as open to stating her mind all the time, but she still held that streak of bold honesty that surprised Rose on occasion.<br/>Rose walked down the hall, her steps soft and slightly shuffling, as she was still fighting the last layers of sleep that would be cured with a cup of coffee. She considered popping in on her husband, who was more than likely in his study to her right, but she decided to leave him to his work. He wasn't very much fun when he began speaking of Shakespeare and Plato and them. Rose had left her education in the bin after high school, despite being a smart student. She had always felt more comfortable working at home and tending after the family and land, especially after her breakdown, which had definitely made some changes in the way Rose defined herself and her priorities. Sometimes she regretted not following through with her education, but most of the time she was perfectly happy with where she was.<br/>A yawn escaped Rose's mouth as she entered the kitchen. She covered her mouth with her hand and closed her eyes, causing her to almost run into Alistair, who was standing in the doorway. "Good morning," Rose managed, wiping at the tears from her yawn with her hand, gently pushing her glasses out of the way. She shook her coffee-deprived head a little to focus, hair waves bouncing over her head, before she looked up to focus on Alistair's face. "I heard you coughing up a storm this morning," she commented, concerned, "are you okay?" Her voice was collected and pleasant, with the tone of someone who was listening to the other person even while speaking. She waited intently for Alistair's answer, finding a relaxed position of holding one wrist with her other hand. If she heard about the dusty state of Alistair's room she was sure to go into a frenzy.<br/>Out of the corner of her eye, Rose spotted her next target, which was Alexia, who was in the kitchen with equipment and ingredients I  hand. She would be sure to help her after she was done with Alistair, and by<span style="font-style: italic">help</span>she meant<span style="font-style: italic">do all the work and let Alexia hold things.</span>Rose meant to be a help, but her habit of gradually taking all of the tasks available was more often a hindrance, especially with the baby on the way. It seemed that Rose was more excited and nervous than the expecting woman herself. That was simply the way she was, and it was pretty certain that her family wouldn't have it any other way.