I've planted a few seeds this morning. It felt so good to get into my garden and put in something. It looked so bare and forlorn. While nothing may grow, and with a new baby soon, I'm not attending it much, I'm happy. Whatever grows is a blessing. It's not a year for intensity in the garden; there will be other years for that. The season of my life is in making new babies. There will be other seasons for elaborate attention to the garden and vines.
I'm also resting as much as possible, and wrapping up preparations. We have all the essentials, despite what the world considers essentials. There's no nursery, and not likely to be one. While there are parts for a crib, I don't care if it's ever assembled. It's not the crib I wanted for my baby, and I have no inclination to reorder my entire home around the style of someone else's choice of a crib. I'll just make the best of things.
I am very much enjoying the new Ladies Against Feminism, and hope to improve my own blog accordingly.
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