We’ve had an interesting week here at the Anderson Haushalt. Let’s go in reverse order, just to confuse everybody…
Tonight we had a wicked thunderstorm go through town. Actually, it wasn’t that big of a deal, because we’re from North Dakota and some summers are tenacious enough to produce these storms DAILY. But there were gusty winds, some rain, and a bit of lightning and thunder. Based on the news coverage, you’d think there was a hurricane coming through town, eating babies and pooping in the river. Our town dodged the worst of it, but part of the big tree in the front yard didn’t make it and ended up on the side of the cul-de-sac. Our nice neighbor lady was out there in the rain and lightning dismantling with with manual pruning shears and putting the pieces in her yard debris bin. Nice, but crazy. Things even out.
I brought my herbs in off the deck as the winds started up. I put them on the floor in the dining room. Unfortunately tonight Munchkin decided to throw a temper tantrum instead of eating supper. In a fit of toddlerhood bawling, she backed up–and fell butt-first right into my basil pot. Darn.
Yesterday was even more exciting. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned the foul odor coming from the crawlspace. It stinks. Earlier this week (or was it last week?) Husband descended into the depths to clean up some cat feces that had been there since the inspection several months ago. Unfortunately, it still stunk. And it was only getting worse. Last night he again descended into the depths and made a frightening discovery. A rotting, putrid, decomposing, maggot-filled corpse of a cat.
Poor Husband had to extract this dripping and fragile corpse and dispose of it. It stunk to high heaven. Later this weekend Husband has to descend for the third time to replace the moist and juicy vapor barrier on which the cat had expired, finish cleaning up more feces that had been missed by the inspector, and plug an access hole under the deck so we don’t get any more deathly smells in our house. I don’t envy his job. I’m so glad I have a valid excuse not to be the unlucky soul that has to carry out this gross job. You see, I’m not sure I’m immune to toxoplasmosis, a parasitic disease carried in cat feces. It can cause miscarriage if contracted in the first trimester of pregnancy.
Did I just announce my pregnancy in the same paragraph as I described a old dead cat? Oh, the shame.
We found out a week ago that I am indeed pregnant, due to burst in early February of next year. Huzzah! Now I have a completely different topic to blather on and on about incessantly! And here’s a coincidence for you: we conceived on the day we closed on the house. It was meant to be.
I’ve been feeling a little ditzy, really tired (and hence the lack of updates as of late, since I like to update at night when it’s quiet), and a bit averted to food before I’ve actually sat down to eat it–after that, it’s no-holds-barred, eat like my life depends on it. After all, I am eating for three. (Let’s do the math: Me + Munchkin (breastfeeding) + Little Fetus = 3) I really, really hope my first trimester doesn’t end up like it did last time, with me on the floor for a couple of months, feeling like I’m about to throw up but (nearly) never actually throwing up, not accomplishing anything but memorizing the daytime TV schedule to keep my mind off of the never ending gag reflex.
And now, I really do need to go and sleep so I can grow a baby in my belly.