Now that the morning sickness has come to an end, I feel, strangely, quite unpregnant. (Coleslaw finished.)Besides the disturbingly painful and ponderously large breasts that have, quite frankly, never been this unsexy and a swelling belly that looks more fat than fertile, I have to consciously THINK about the little
person growing inside me. The 'realising' effects of the scan we had at 12 weeks has dissipated into a kind of dumb paranoia where I sometimes feel like I'm just imagining it! Perhaps that is why, in the next week or two, God designed it that I'll be able to feel the baby inside me! I have already felt the strange shiftings inside of me this week of intestines etc being squashed and moved by my ever expanding uterus. (Discovered that the baby creates its own fingerprints by its swimming motions!) OK - enough pregnancy chit-chat. What else can I tell you?
1. I am writing a book. Non-fiction. (It's terrifying!!)
2. I have begun painting again - watercolours, in a very large format - A1 or A0. Until I get my easel and can afford such large swathes of Bockingford, I'm doing smaller ones (A3). I'm looking at flowers as metaphors for anatomy and reproductivity. (Yip - now that I am pregnant I find I can hardly think of anything else! But no, really - it's more about celebrating the exquisite beauty and miraculousness of life --- a (visual) song of praise to God I suppose.)
3. Craig is still enjoying working at Spratton Hall. The children are quite unlike any other children I've ever encountered here... Hence why I am not looking forward to starting my supply work -- i.e. I'll probably be placed 90% of the time in public schools where the kids know their rights and are, generally, full of bullshit and are somewhat lacking in the discipline department.
Otherwise, I could write and write and write, but I'm stuck in the middle of yet another Steven King book -- so I'll say 'tootleloo' and ciao, ciao - with lots of love!
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