and I’m already wearing elastic waist bands
I’ve eaten two biscuits today while reading old posts of mine, how I used to turn a phrase, and now how I hardly get my sheets turned up.
My words here have been fewer and fewer as nausea lets me know that my body is busy stewing up another grandbaby. There’s certainly internal creativity going on. In the meantime, I’m watching a lot of television.
My heart’s gone all matter-of-fact, and my body is being poetic. Christmas Day I didn’t leave the couch. I watched Ben Hur for the first time, and every time I saw the color yellow, I almost hurled. Pure poetry, huh?
All my good stuff is making fingers and toes this week, week 8. It’s a matter of happy fact, while my boys are in the deep-end of imagination after watching A Christmas Carol. They’ve been floating around the apartment, whoo-ing like ghosts for hours. Normally I would take the opportunity to talk about a spirit world, but for now I just tell them to whoo more quietly.
This post, in all it’s glory, has taken two days to write. I’m serious. Somebody give me a writing topic. Something. Anything to stir the creative juice. All this matter of factness to me is like taking the wild out of a wildcat.