Treehouse,part2

The treehouse is rather variable. It turns out it has a swimming pool, with tropical fish in it, in the basement. You get down to it by sliding in a tube, and there is an elevator to take you up. The swimming pool is square, and 3.5 times the largest dimension of our house (the largest dimension of our house is smaller than an olympic-sized swimming pool, but the 3.5 multiplier results in something probably more accurately described as a smallish lake). There are fish in the pool; they are multiple colors, blending smoothly from one color to the next.

But one consistent feature is a table in the entry way, which is a magic table, and contains food that looks delicious but is poisonous, and will kill you slowly, and a drink that looks disgusting but tastes delicious and is good for you. Last night it tasted like lemonade and looked like meat juice. (The table is part of the protections on the treehouse, which include, but are not limited to, a hidden door, some traps, and of course a full menagerie of meat-eating mythical animals who will fight you off if you try to interfere with their favorite amusement, which is of course napping cuddled up with Opal.)

Last night she went for a before-breakfast swim, a mid-breakfast swim, and an after-breakfast swim. Breakfast was eggs, bacon, and popcorn. With tea. Then she went to her art room, where she and her friends were making props for their opera about racism.