it’s cloudy this morning. a touch of grey fog, quiet and calm. the dampness clings to the long slender shoots of grass and wraps around the tired oak fingers. the earth seems to sigh, and the clouds heavily roll along, lumbering, as if even they are too tired to take another celestial step. the occasional hum of a passing vehicle sounds far away and distant, the sound too weary to cut through the morning grey. inside, the dog rests his furry head between his paws, his eyes half open and lifted, watching me as a he fights a losing battle to stay awake.
me? in keepin’ with the situation, i try to eat my cereal with a fork. i feel clumsy, sleepy, already ready for a nap.
i wonder how much longer it will be before baby girl makes her debut. today we’re just three days away from 40 weeks.