Baby Hungry, Baby Delicious

Every week I get an email from an infant formula company updating me on my baby's growth at his week of gestation. At first, he was as big as a pomegranate seed, then a grape. Later he was about the size of a small peach, then an orange.

They have to know what they're doing to the minds of me and pregnant women all over the country. Because my pregnancy has left me craving tart fruit and I am very susceptible to the power of suggestion, I can't but help feel the impressions of all these delicious fruits that are the same size as my baby. When I was sick with the stomach flu awhile back, the baby was about the size of a large grapefruit. And you know? Grapefruit was all I wanted to eat. Kevin was skeptical that it was the right sick food, but it was, and I ate the whole thing in about 10 minutes after not eating anything for days.

Last week the email said the baby is the size of a little pineapple. Can you guess what delicious fruit I've been craving all week? I'm thinking of nicknaming the baby "Little Pineapple."

October Crafts

I don't have a lot of time or skill for crafts, but occasionally, sitting at a computer all day gets to me and I want to get around to actually doing something. So, this is something that's like my kind of craft.

Should I tell you the supplies cost me $4 and it took about four minutes to make? Hmmm. Wouldn't want to destroy the mystique... if there is any.

A couple of weeks ago, I borrowed a hat knitting kit from a friend of a friend. I signed up with a Christian group to knit hats for the homeless, so I decided to make these youth hats. I've also made a couple of baby hats (one pictured on the right) for keeping or giving away. It feels good to actually *make* something for service with my hands, and it works very well for making me feel like I can get something done while I unwind.

Fall in Big Cottonwood Canyon

This photo doesn't do the leaves justice, but it's the reddish-orange ones I love the most. A perfect drive.

Sleeping Lessons

I've been playing this video over and over because I don't own it, but I love it. Maybe it's my pensive October mood, or just a feeling that I get from all of the contention out there, particularly the will so many have to dominate over others to build themselves up. But I've been thinking a lot about this, and I love the power in this song.

Sleeping Lessons (The Shins)

Go without,
Till the need seeps in
You low animal,
Collect your novel petals for the stem.

And glow.
Glow.
Melt and flow.
Eviscerate your fragile frame.
And spill it out on ragged floor.
A thousand different versions of yourself.

And if the old guards still offend,
They got nothing left on which you depend.
So enlist every ounce
Of your bright blood.
And off with their heads.

Jump from the hook.
You're not obliged to swallow anything you despise.
See, those unrepenting buzzards want your life,
And they got no right.
As sure as you have eyes,
They got no right.

Just put yourself in my new shoes.
And see that I do all I do.
Because the old guard still offends.
(Their pudgy hearts and slimy hands)
They got nothing left on which we depend.
So enlist every ounce
Of your bright blood.
And off with their heads.

Jump from the hook.
You're not obliged to swallow anything you despise,
That you despise.

25 Weeks

Here y'all go. (This is a different door, btw. Not that I would care about a thing like that.)

Total Eclipse of the Kitties

So I first took this picture because the cats are so cuddly with each other now that it's getting colder. But after viewing the photos, I realized it just looks like they should be cast in this terrible '80s video. Or, for something fun, try the literal version.

Turn around, bright eyes. Oh, and Aja's bum is shaped like a heart.

Noticing

Tonight I walked to our large park for my evening exercise. My hip and IT band have been giving me grief lately, signaling that I need to stop running until I buy a new pair of shoes. So, I donned my old running shoes and went walking instead.

After making my lap around the park, I decided to try out the swings. I was there, under an elm, my feet able to touch the high branches, looking at Mt. Olympus and Twin Peaks sheathed in the first snow, golden and shining in the glow of the sunset. The air was crisp, and my fingers started to feel numb with cold, but I kept swinging. These were the same mountains I'd look up at from my backyard swings growing up, as I would decompress the day by swinging and listening to my walkman.

As I swung tonight, I listened to my "Good Earth" playlist on my ipod - a playlist of folk songs. I felt this cool air. Autumn air has always made me feel that the mountains are speaking to me. As the breeze comes from the canyons, carrying the scent of leaves, pine, and campfires, it signals the turn of the season. I thought about the things that I'm putting away from summer, and looked forward to autumn:

• In summer I was running most days; now I will take more time for yoga and pilates
  
• In summer I spent time in my garden; now I'll spend time reading novels
  
• In summer I spent more time teaching; now I'll spend more time meditating
  
• In summer I ate fresh tomatoes every day; now I'll give myself leave to turn to comfort foods, such as zucchini bread and sweet potato pie

I think that this autumn is really a time for noticing miracles. Loved ones in my life are healthy and strong. Starting this weekend, the baby now has more than a 50/50 chance of survival after birth. The other night Kevin put his hand on my stomach and felt our baby move for the first time. To see the look on Kevin's face as father's gentle hand met son's little body through my abdomen reminded me what an astounding process new life is.

It's a great season.