Last night I made chili without a recipe. I didn't even really think about finding one, just threw a bunch of things that seemed right into a pot, based on memories of the first chili I ever made. Ground beef, onion, green pepper, chili powder, cumin, a can of tomato puree, and some kidney beans. It turned out just fine.
A week from today we'll be moving into our new place, and starting the business of learning a new town and sorting our lives back out from their current boxed state. The moving company has been around to give us an estimate. The packing is going well. We are excavating things that were shoved into a closet when we moved into this place, and throwing a fair number of them away, or giving them to the thrift store, hoping to avoid last-minute craziness as far as possible.
We'll be leaving some furniture behind when we go, some of the unfinished pine we picked up cheap in our first Boston years, and replacing it with what I continue to think of as "grown-up" furniture. Last night I packed up the baking ingredients--two entire boxes' worth.
27 weeks pregnant and things seem to be fine. She's an active little critter, just like her siblings. I got my packet of preregistration paperwork for the hospital, and started making a list of the things we'll need to get.
Last but not least, today is my daughter's birthday! 6 years ago we were well into the second day of labor, with five hours still to go before meeting her. It's been a wonderful time, full of adventures. Yesterday while I was working at home, I tried to assuage her disappointment at not being able to spend time with me by suggesting that she write me a letter. "Dear Mommy, I love you. Love Lydia."
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