old truck

Today Sam has been using my ribs as a climbing frame, or at least that’s what it feels like. He’s been super active practically all day and now my tummy is feeling quite sore. I’ve just had a lovely soak in some bubble bath to help myself feel better though and now I’m all nice and relaxed and fuzzy again. I turned off the lights, enjoyed the warmth of the water and practiced my breathing and sound in the tub.

I do hope that when the time comes Sammy and I can curl up in the water and splash our way through the first stage of labour before we have to go to the hospital. Though, I really must try to find a proper plug that actually works because at the moment I lie in the bath and listen to the bath water trickle away as the water level lowers and half of me gets chillier and chillier. It’s bad enough that I can’t get my voluminous tummy submerged in the tub without the water draining away from the rest of me. Trying to find a proper plug, and not a strange plastic disk “stopper” has however proved challenging.

Despite the draining water Sam and I managed to soak away a terribly dull and frustrating day. After a trying morning attempting to get Bacchanalia set up so that they can do their own web updates (that place is nuts) I had to run a small errand for Bill. This involved going to Midas and getting the truck’s brakes checked. The inspection also revealed that our tyres were bare and below the legal limit. Our quick trip to the garage thus turned into a very expensive test of endurance as I had to camp out in the waiting room for five hours while the truck was fixed. By the time the truck was ready I was horribly uncomfortable but very glad that when we drove away the truck was deemed safe again.


Questions I was asked in conversation today:

“Do you have black people in England?”

“What do they sound like? Do they speak like you?”


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