There are at least two sides to everything. A first, I tilt the camera to capture the radiant light, to show you how the rain illuminates the pink on my fushia.  Then with the slightest movement toward the sky, the fushia goes black, the grays of life come to play.  Same plant.  Same day.

Is it our duty as healthy humans to feel both the dark and the light, simultaneously?  Or is it a matter of knowing they both exist; feeling them is irrelevant.  Maybe we are supposed to dramatically know one today and then tomorrow wake to a new companion of mood.  

It's odd, this staying home stuff.  Yesterday I went to the chiropractor and felt like a new person, just for the interaction of the breeze in my car and the wonderful laides at the office.  I sleep, but the sleep comes in sporatic succession.  Joel and I awkwardly fumble around our new duties, like newlyweds deciding who will do the dishes.  Sometimes, in the dead of night, when I can barely be human, I feel the tears of self pity as I care for Bowie.  Then, even through their misty lens, my eyes see more clearly than ever before what a privildege I have to be with her right now.  My wise friend Leif recently wrote to me, "Remember that she will never be this tiny again.  This applies to every day of her life."  Many parents tell me to enjoy it, that they miss the baby time.  So I try, I really do try hard to be present.  Then I border on self-judgement and just before I fall pray to that angry precipice, Emily reminds me that whatever I am feeling in these next precarious weeks (elation, immense sadness, etc), to not judge it too harshly.  To just let it be, let yourself alone.

My Mum leaves tomorrow, marking the end of our live-in help. Bowie will also be two weeks old tomorrow.  While I dread my mother's absence (you should SEE how clean this house is and how well-fed we've been), I also know it's time.  It's time to test out my wobbly mother-hen legs.  It's time to communicate more vulnerably with Joel, it's time to learn to reach out to the community around me if I need help.  Do keep us in your thoughts.  

To benevolent and wise weather systems,

Such a magnificent tree and sad pooch waiting for its coffee-saturated master.

 Here I am with my 11.5 week old fetus.  Note the last button of my coat is in protest.  Sigh.  So it begins.

When conditions become this extreme, I always seem to think of times in history when electricity, grocery stores, insulated houses, and the internet were not a part of life.  I wonder what manner of women I would be faced with those hardships?  I'm sure, as with most evolutionary processes, I would adapt and thrive in the environment afforded me, but man - I should would miss perusing thinkgeek for nerdy kid's stuff to put on the baby registry.  Instead, I would have to go churn butter or chop wood.   Now I know several ladies who seem to still have that pioneer woman spirit in them, but I think that was bred out of me in my easy-living, automobile-centric, fast-food loving, Southern California childhood.   But hey, not all is lost.  I certainly know my way around a computer, can manage my time like a professional planner, and have a god-given penchant for eye-makeup.  It's the 21st century Pioneer-ess.  That's me.

One more thing.  I had my 80mm lens on the camera for a while (easier to take pictures of family for holidays), and it completely uninspired me to pick up my camera.  I recently changed it to the 50mm, and now I am itching to use it more and more.  Now all is well.

Come again soon,