Blue Hues of Winter

It has occurred to me many times that I should post something profound and entertaining. And then I become distracted by my husband, my work, my dancing stomach. So when I left the house this morning and saw that our once proud pumpkins had shriveled into rotting pumpkins overnight I acknowledge my negligence with life. (We did not feel it necessary to remove our October pumpkins from their festive spot. Worked through November, possibly pathetic in mid-January.)

That's a bit harsh, but it was a harsh morning. Overcast with a strong bitter wind whipping small iceflakes in my eyes. The depleted pumpkins reminded me of my overgrown weedy garden and withered potted plants. Yes, it is winter and I feel it's depressional pull. The kind that says "You should only sit in front of your fireplace and sip hot chocolate." Luckily, my growing Bean has produced a pumpkin-esque rotund look to my tummy and serves as a constant reminder that Spring will bring new blossoms. That sounds poetic, but actually it was difficult to plant my tulip bulbs whilst pregnant. Lots of stretching-the-leg breaks.