This Must Be the Place
November 29, 1998


We slept in this morning. We got home last night after 1 AM, so we deserved to sleep in. We're out of food, though, so we didn't have anything in particular for breakfast. At least there's coffee.

Most of today has been a slow reorganization of life in Richmond. At one point today I told Jean that it seemed like all of November had been prelude to Thanksgiving in Blue Bell. Now that we're back we have to start up with laundry and groceries and everything else.

I managed to copy all of my journal entries from the cursed Macintosh laptop. Apparently it can't recognize floppy disks that were formatted through Win95. I let the Mac format the disk in DOS format and my PC read the files easily.

So maybe I don't hate Macs completely.

December starts Tuesday. Jean and I have been starting each month of her pregnancy with the first of each month, even though pregnancy seems to go by lunar not calendar months. So this Tuesday she's officially in her eighth month. It's been an easy pregnancy so far (last night's scare notwithstanding), and I think we're both enjoying it day by day. We're not ready yet for our daughter, but every day we're getting closer to being ready.

I wonder what she'll be like. I've seen such strong personalities in the past week: Janet's daughter Katie, who is afraid of my dogs, even though they've never demonstrated anti-social behavior; or Anna, who couldn't eat dinner quickly enough so she could return to a game she'd not seen in almost half a year; or Sabrina, the two-year old who can command an entire room of grown ups to dance with just a look.

All I know right now is that there is a bumpy baby-to-be inside Jean. Tonight we resume reading The Hobbit at bedtime. She seems to be listening when I read, pounding less than she usually does. When I'm done, she almost always stomps around, demanding more.

I'm very glad not to have traveled today. All the news reports at dinnertime were about the horrible traffic in planes, trains and automobiles. I'm happy to have had a quiet day at home instead of a frustrating day on I-95.

It's warm again in Richmond. The high was 77 degrees. We decided to have a fire anyway tonight, for atmosphere (actually Jean green-lighted the fire when she could no longer tolerate the smell of some microwave popcorn I'd cooked).

listening: Madama Butterfly (Puccini); WFMT

visiting: Aries Moon; more than this; just me

reading: The Hobbit (J.R.R. Tolkien)


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© 1998 Kevin J.T. Creamer