If an Abigail Does Not Work

Neither shall she eat...

I don't think I've ever had a meal brought to me after giving birth, though I might have with Millie. I flee the hospital at the soonest possible moment, life resumes, and new life begins, as it should. But bed rest, however modified, has already garnered our family TWO delicious meals, and I thought it deserved a mention. So, in my latest tally, the scores stand thusly.

Regular running about: 597
Modified bed rest: 2

I was and still am thankful for the kind souls who fed us so well, and all that with me not having to lift a finger! Bob and Elizabeth, a thank you note will come, but until then, here's a foretaste. During the meal, Annika said, "This is the YUMMIEST and my FAVORITE and I will eat it EVERY NIGHT!" A good thing, too, because you gave so much that we were able to eat it a few times during the week, lips smacking together for each meal. Millie has since told me that although Mr. Brown makes the best ziti, I make better Pakistani food (at least I'm good for something around here).

As if being given two meals wasn't enough, Titi brought more delicious food for our not-every-monthly-let's-try-to-teach-Abby-to-knit session. This was our second session, and here she sits, cheerfully figuring out how to cast off left-handed so that she can then teach me. The lumpy red and white square she's holding is Buster's first bib, the easiest knitting project ever, and at which I still fumble. (Yes, she drafted and sewed that dress herself.)



She brought these for me and Leah to gobble. Feta, red pepper, onion, garlic, and spinach wrapped up in tidy phyllo triangles. I had ten. TEN? Ten.



Surely you can understand why.



***To come if I ever stop slouching on the couch and pick up a camera are pictures of the highest-fashion diaper bag Titi made for my birthday gift-- a la The Devil Wears Prada-- and three wee elephants she sewed for Annika's birthday, with chubby bellies and, Annika assures, "the littlest trunks in the world."