Small News Sent from the Couch

Little Lightning LaBolt is small enough that we're ignoring the cycle date and using the ultrasound as the due date, which takes me from nearly 34 weeks down to 31 weeks.  This will, Lord willing, keep us from a c-section done only for the sake of hospital protocol, but now I have to figure out how to justify the fact that I've already shot past the high end of poundage.  Surely it's ALL going to that little baby, right? 

Thank goodness for garden vegetables pouring in to offset the candy and couch-sitting.  We gobbled our first bowl of sungold tomatoes in no time at all and enjoyed the first ears of fresh corn the same day.  Yellow Squash Everything is on the menu, but, alas, the troops of beetles I hunted down and the hundreds of eggs I squashed weren't enough to save the zucchini.  Out of five hills, one plant survives, and the bugs are rotting the baby zucchini as fast as the plant can grow them.  It's a bad sign when there's not zucchini to hide on neighbors' doorsteps.

After tormenting him daily for a month, we sent Joel back off to Indiana with an early birthday cake, candle-lit in a power outage.   John and the children played board games until an hour and a half past bedtime.  Who says electricity makes people stay up later? (And, thankfully, not even one pound of Teman's ground beef defrosted!)

The children have taken to light h'learning admirably, but, even so, we toss in trips to the pond to liven things up when weeding, picking vegetables, and h'learning need a bit more spice (which is, really, EVERY DAY). With a whiff of October in chilly August air, we'll grab all the swimming days we have left, and hold fast with both hands.