The Other Side of the World

we wash lots of diapers and then bask in their post-dryer warmth

homemade pizza dough is perfected by the LD

sometimes we sleep

and sometimes, we sleep on each other

I woke up yesterday being eye balled by these giant specimens and I had to quickly go back to sleep for a minute. The cuteness, it is overwhelming at times.

There was snow smashed into every crevice of our street today making for an exhilarating automotive thrust through the ice ruts not to mention a thrilling bout of morning labour for the lovely daddy (I wonder if he’ll dig my car out in the future when I get called out at 4am? is this an unreasonable dream?)Red.skirt.lust. Please, someone, contrive for this skirt to enter my life in a more visceral way than me clicking on the Etsy store from whence it comes 18 times a day (it’s handmade! of recycled material! by a struggling artist! there is so much good to add to the world via this skirt!).

To sum: baby googlers, snowstorm # 28 of the season and Etsy.com
. . . dangerous things all

Also: to the person that stole my bag of groceries, or perhaps contrived to evaporate it unbeknownst to me, or who finds it in a deep snow drift: enjoy the prune juice and chocolate pudding!

I am not sleeping this night-time because we, this elegant little dyad of us - can sleep any time. Can curl up and sink our noses into each other’s folds that are scentless in their familiarity. Custard-silk creases. Luxury trimmed in richness.
I am also not sleeping because I’m not at home and everything is a quarter-turn past perfectly comfortably familiar. The realization of this is tedious because it reminds me how hard and long it feels before things settle into home-ness. And this, of course, juxtaposes with the back-to-other-side-world-ness that is forthcoming. And the thought of reworking that transition, yet again, is a little achey and sharp.
Perhaps tacking on an entourage this time around will rub the edges some.
I’d like that.
And I’d like sleep.