I’m 37 weeks pregnant. Needless to say, there are heavy matters on my mind. I have a ton ‘o things to do and I’ve taken nesting to an unsafe level.
<Pause> Let me interrupt to brag on my husband and father who, under the influence of a melting-down, estrogen-crazed pregnant woman, have performed mighty feats of remodeling magic in my house. They really didn’t have a chance when faced with a crying belly bump girl. Thanks o men of my dreams!! <Continue>
So, since my to-do list is long and weighty, I thought I would blog about small celebratory things.
First, summer fruit:
Ok, I know. Rhubarb isn’t a fruit. But I celebrate it all the same.
Second, my salt cellar:
I don’t know why my salt cellar (and the tiny olive wood spoon) brings such contentment. The small things, I suppose. A bamboo box for the sea salt and the kosher salt. What a thing of beauty.
The to-do list will be there tomorrow. The extreme nesting will continue to compel me to do things like clean the hot water heater with a toothbrush. Tonight I cling to my red currants and salt cellar. But the end is in sight. My queen-of-organization sister will come to my rescue. She will.
Inexplicable Ways 