Good on me!
Peas! I don't care how many times it happens- every time I see peas growing in my garden, I will get all excited and sail off into fits of metaphysical silliness. Particularly when pregnant.
But in the interest of time, I'll only subject you to a haiku:
The peas have come forth
Out of the darkness they rise
Here is tomorrow
Dude, seriously. I just came up with that in 4 seconds, but's deep. Seriously, seriously deep. So take a few moments and ponder the spiritual implications of peas.
So I waddled from the computer to the garden to the dining room table, and took this shot for funny.
Oh sure, it's a beautiful Easter lilly, symbol of purity and the Resurrection and other amazing things, but let's look at in through the eyes of an extremely fertile, currently pregnant woman with a Sacramental worldview.
Ok, doesn't the nectar dripping from the pistil look particularly...how shall we put it? Robust? Full of longing?
No? It's just me?
Ok, well I found the reproductive enthusiasm of the dining room lilies particularly funny.
Here's a haiku about it:
The lily is there
on the dining room table
dripping all over
This is Gabriel and his best friend, Nick. Nick has no sisters, and so thinks our costume box is the most amazing thing ever. Gabriel has a sister, and so is used to cross dressing. They are extremely happy that they live on a cul-de-sac at the back of a quiet neighborhood, and so are given the luxury of lax parental supervision so no one notices that they're running laps around the circle dressed like this.
This is a screenshot, which I'm not sure technically counts as a picture, but it's my blog and I do what I want.
My neighbor, Brenda, mother of the attractively dressed Nick in the above picture, is a princess among neighbors. In fact, I think she's dangerously close to being made an honorary Southerner by virtue of her hospitality and graciousness. Read through that list- I think you'll agree. Any neighbor who not only responds to half naked savages with nary a wink of the eye but also offers to pick things up from the grocery story for the lazy, pregnant mother of said savages is downright Mississippian. Or Alabamian. Which is a real word- don't bother looking it up.
A final haiku!
My neighbor Brenda
Sees chickens in her front yard
They're not even hers
Woosh. That post has me whipped. I need a nap.