472: the sweetness of a baby shower

In the heat of a May afternoon, one dear friend hosted a baby shower for her sister, who is another loved member of our book club. The sweetest, of course, were the handknit outfits made by Ardeshir's mother. I'm grateful to have family members who are willing to (anxious to!) make things by hand for our own coming baby. What a blessed gift to have that kind of art in your home.

And if I were Meryl, after observing Ardeshir's family for just two short hours, I would be thrilled to see my sister married into such a sweet and loving family. (Casey's family is out in Connecticut, so I can't enthuse at the same level, though I'm sure they have their own set of charms!) I can say from experience that having such open-hearted in-laws is a vast blessing; I love my husband so so much, and it only makes sense that he comes from a beautiful family too.

Happy baby-coming, Casey. You and Ardeshir are going to make such absolutely wonderful parents--that baby is one lucky little guy.

471: a little hay creek before camping

On our way to the creek: wouldn't you want to come along too, if you saw that happy face looking back at you?

We've gotten some sad news in regard to Penelope. She has a partial tear in her crucet ligament, which explains her massive limp, her lifting both feet from the floor at times, raised up on her front, which is such a strange sight. She does fine in our small neighborhood walks, but after going leashless on the bluffs or at the creek, she has trouble getting around. The difficult part is that the tear will need surgery if it is to be repaired, and that surgery costs over three thousand dollars. Ouch. I'm a graduate student; I make less than the poverty level. Ryan's job allows us to keep the house, to pay the bills, to have a baby! But we're going to save and save and hope we can get there one day, before it becomes a complete tear. And in the meantime, we'll encourage her to keep it easy, but look at that face. Zephyr clearly needs the exercise; could you leave Penelope behind?


We're camping this weekend--it's an annual tradition, same weekend each year--with our dear friends the Urtels and Chad, friends that date back to Ryan's own graduate school days (well, and mine too, though that was the first go-round for me--Ryan knew when to quit). We're going into the wilds of Wisconsin, and we plan to fish (I hope to catch something! and clean it myself! and cook it! we'll see--), and I've, of course, given the added twist of first trimester-ness, so we shall see how the adventure goes. Last year, it was cold and rainy our entire Saturday, which was awfully miserable, especially since I came off the end of a flu-bout. Ah, the tricks of nature within nature. I'm just glad to get outside; I'm in need of a small change of scenery with good, good company.

470: some magical things

- Shari's photo of dandelion seeds falling.
- Flossy-p's video of a mural in the making.
- Maria's p2p Wee shop (how many onesies does Baby Kiefer need? Many, I believe!)
- This photograph Angie sent me reminds me of / makes me long for my childhood.
- The memorization of the epic poem "Paradise Lost" amazes me
- Ella (whose creativity astounds me) had her baby!

Though I missed camping this past weekend due to wonky-stomach, we have been able to go to Hay Creek, and I've found a comfortable log to watch the proceedings. We plan to camp next weekend with friends, though it's already been forewarned that I may bow out of any heavy hiking.

My second trimester starts in a few weeks, and I have high hopes that, as promised, the morning sickness will ebb and the little baby will protrude. I feel as if I've been in the first trimester of pregnancy all my life at this point, when it's only been a little over a month of awareness.

I've lugged the sewing machine down from the basement and plan to rely on YouTube videos for me to pull off the training wheels. My mother has suggested we make the baby diapers I had planned on buying, so I do need to flex a bit; it's been a long, long, long time since I've sewed anything, and I'll need a reminder how to get that bobbin thread and the top-thread to marry one another as opposed to tangling up in a giant mess as I usually tend to do.

It's raining here, which means it's the perfect day to dig into the new set of boxes Ryan brought down from the attic. This is my second collection, with many more to go, and though it's going slower than either of us would like, it's progressing towards clutter-free, and that, in itself, is pure magic.

469: our not-so-big backyard

I still have plenty to dig through backlog-wise, but outside has been so glorious these days with its minute changes; I wanted to pause in celebration.

Here's what's been going on in our yard:

I hadn't seen the ants needed to crawl along the tops of our peonies, but today, as Ryan predicted, one of my favorite flowers burst open. I cannot emphasize enough: I love, love peonies. And ranunculas, which are quite a bit more delicate.

The most surprising and exhausting change is this:


Our rickety four foot fence, the one whose panels got knocked down on a regular basis (see this loving post dedicated to Zephyr's destruction) is being hand-crafted by a former neighbor (here's a set of images of the family, though he isn't in any of the pictures)--six feet tall, panel by panel. I'm not in love with the idea of sheltering ourselves in so closely, but as I grow older, I find myself more and more of a hermit, and after too many bouts of other-neighbor judgment (small towns can be so picky), I'm glad for the added privacy. Really, we wanted something sturdier, and I like that Z won't catch every dog being walked by, every trio of kids, and I won't have to listen to the shriek of teenage girls on cell phones as he pounds his ways into the wobbly gray, patched together, disaster of a fence. It's gone now, a heap of rubble at the end of the drive.


I also wanted to share hopes for my blueberry bush. Ryan got it for me as a surprise--a kind of comfort for my pregnancy, something I'd wished for, but know they need a little extra love and care (unlike my insane raspberry bush--anyone nearby want some runners?). Above is maybe a week ago with the little bell-flowers, and below is today, these bitty blueberries coming through. I can't wait to taste.


Currently reading: Better Off: Flipping the Switch on Technology by Eric Brende, which is about an MIT student who brings his wife to live on an "Amish" (he calls them Minimites) homestead, complete with cash crops, a horse-and-buggy, a home birth, wells and lake ice with sawdust. I'm also trying to take advantage of my slim seven months of freedom left to read books by professors in the program, and I started with Julie Schumacher's The Body is Water and just finished Charlie Baxter's The Soul Thief.

Currently watching: Netflix just delivered Stealing Beauty to appease my urgent desire to travel to Europe; Frida because I just finished reading The Lacuna with my book club (which met last night in Casey's adorable loft and we had delicious vegan fajitas). I've seen both movies, but I've been feeling the need to return. (Next up for book club? Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson. They've been picking very good books these days.)

Currently craving: my food cravings haven't wavered so much in this first trimester. I love dairy, particularly (organic) milk and (fancy) strawberry ice cream. I also am craving fruits: apples especially, but any fruit will get me drooling. I'm feeling the need to try a new muffin recipe, or dessert bread, using that fruit I crave. Anyone have a good recipe they love?

468

Mother's day weekend, before we met at Z Harvest for lunch to reveal the big news, we found ourselves with half an hour of free time. We stopped by the Wildlife Sanctuary and discovered these beautiful creatures. There were many Canada goose families wandering about the premises, but none as prolific as that top couple, whose brood Ryan counted up to twenty-two or -three and joked, "She must have had fertility treatments," which, of course, made me cringe, given my own situation and risk of Clomid-twins (the first ultrasound, of course, revealed just the one peanut). Silly boy.

I love that Canada geese mate for life. I love how defensive the papa is over his brood (that middle one is a goose hissing me away). I love how sweet the young are. I love how beautiful spring can be.

467: yes, this is may

A few weekends ago, Ryan and I took the pups with us to Green Bay, where both sets of parents reside. Sometimes it's strange to think we went to high school only twenty minutes apart, that we actually worked at the same inbound telemarketing place as teenagers, that he believes he can even remember me from breaks, when so many of the three-story winged building crowded out in the summer sun.

These photographs, however, do not celebrate the summer sun: instead, it is to show you Wisconsin in May, a little snowstorm we drove through. It was brief and melted by the next day; Ryan thought it was beautiful and I mourned the cold wet covering the brilliant green I'd felt so desperate for for so long.

Snow in May should feel strange, but I suppose it doesn't. Now, it's hot and humid and last night, while making dinner, Ryan and I with our separate sauces for the pasta (mine: alfredo with fresh mushrooms, shrimp, and a hot sauce/salsa; his: tomato and ground beef), the world light up, thunder and lightning, which is my undeniable favorite sort of weather. I yearn for more, even as the sun shines so fiercely outside.


My absolute favorite is this last one.

466: I've fallen behind

I've fallen behind in the most desperate of ways--please don't, but if you must--picture me, wallowing in that dumb beauty of summer, on the other side, while I attempt to hold in the last meal. And now, I want to share a few things from May that I've missed along the way (June is so close!).


A few photos of the hybrid-monster Amanda drew and brought into class, myriad quotes on poetics along the body. The hybrid-monster is non-threatening and can be viewed from various angles. When I become less of a lump, I plan to cut out the hybrid-monster and make a few from fabric.


My friend Colleen had a gorgeous reading at the Rogue Buddha Gallery. It was my first trip there, and I fell in love with some of the artwork. I look forward to July first's reading, which features another of my beloved poet-friends, Amanda.

The semester ended quietly and smoothly, with full distraction. What I remember most: the last week of classes, knowing, turning in grades early but still having an essay to complete, and mostly, Meryl's defense and the lunch after at Seward Cafe, how charming she looked, how poised, how absolutely smooth it all went. I'm both proud and pleased and look forward to seeing her thesis transform into an actual book; I have faith that we will see it in bookstores in the not-so-distant future.

In the meantime, M and I have been trading poems every day, just to keep ourselves in practice, which means my thesis might actually have a first draft by the end of summer, shock of all shocks. I missed today's writing date due to a ridiculous night of discomfort, but I have faith my body will give me more freedom eventually.

For now, I read as much as I can, I write, I look fiercely forward to BreadLoaf, a gift of an experience, a perfect way to end, for now. I won't stop going to conferences and applying to retreats, but I know it will be many years before I can do that again, and if I can go with one of my best friends, then that's all the more reason to be grateful.