eighty degrees

Remember that humid, 80 degree weekend in Little Rock?
And how florescent white my legs were? (They still are.)
Spring, come to Seattle.


(Thanks for the pictures, Katy.)

It's cold

and I want to make sundresses, and buy swimsuits

but we'll only be in San Diego for three days this summer, and will Seattle ever be warm enough to warrant a baby going sleeveless?

I guess I'll stick with a framed monogram, some taggie animals, and baby shoes.

more crafts

Still using up the fabric we bought for this tree, and used for those birds



and for this quilt, draped over my cedar chest footstool:


The latest attempts to use up the fabric also used the cardboard of cereal boxes, ribbon from a baby gift, and rice and lentils.

why?

When people ask if I've gone back to work and I say, "no," why do I say it apologetically?

I don't have to apologize for not going back to work. I should be saying it thankfully.

looking ahead

Up to now, I've spent most of my life aware of, if not anticipating, the next "phase of life". In junior high, you have two or three years to look forward to highschool. In highschool, it's four years and then college. Then another four years, and career (or, in many cases, loafing around). Then, often not too long after, it's marriage, and a few years after that, it's probably parenthood.

So now, I'm in the parenthood phase. For the first time, the next phase of life isn't two or three or four years in the future. As far as I can tell, the next phase is either the empty nest or grandparenthood...at least twenty years away.

"Parenthood is like crossing a long desert," Jack says in response to my musing. I wait for him to make that a positive statement.
"But," he continues, "just like crossing a long desert, it's very rewarding."

I raise an eyebrow. He shakes his head.

Or maybe now you start anticipating - instead of the next phase of your life - the next phase of your child's life. But that seems too child-centric, or too much like parents who try to foist their own unrealized dreams onto their children.

So maybe I just need to think more deeply about the future - beyond the normal categories, physical markers or the "American dream" -- into less obvious, more uniquely personal categories of changes, hopes and inner growth...

easier than doing things

is making a list of things to do.

1. Get sleep, so left eye will stop twitching.
2. Or: drink more ocfee. (Or: get sleep, so will be able to type without increasing the font size tremendously.) (Coffee).
3. Pay bills and write thank you notes.
4. Upload photos to walgreens; print, and mail to grandparents, and update baby book.
5. Finish making bean-bag bookends (or a book hanger?) for Rosemary's shelf. (Or: procrastinate more by looking at the baby nurseries on ohdeedoh.com)
6. Finally put that postnatal yoga dvd to use, or create a profile on Wii Fit; be able to fit into pre-pregnancy jeans (had a dream about this last night).
7. Time for my second quilt?
8. Plant root vegetables to harvest in June; start tomatoes from seeds indoors. Figure out what else needs to be done now for my garden.
9. Choose bushes and flowers for the front beds and pots. Learn what grows well in Seattle.
10.Finally finish "Surprised by Hope" or "The Reason for God". (Hard to do when reading on roughly five hours of sleep. Read the same page over and over and over.)


OR: surf the web and listen to the "Dark Was the Night" compilation.