I go to Burlington with some frequency. More than I’d like to, really. Had I my druthers I’d leave the homestead only rarely. I went to Burlington tonight to take pictures of the legendary Peter Schumann of Bread and Puppet fame. It was good fun and I saw a lot of people I don’t see that much because in truth, I don’t go to town all that often.
One of the people I saw that I don’t see all that often was an old friend, the gentleman who made the engagement ring I gave Abby and the one she gave me. He had forgotten Abby was pregnant and when I reminded him and told him that she was due at the end of this month he did a bit of math.
“Hmm, about 38 weeks,
I had in fact started just such a project, the aformentioned shed of gigantic propotions. He told me that it was traditional, the very most normal sort of nesting a man who’s a little handy can do. He did an addition on his house when his wife was six months pregnant with their first son.
When I told my mom that story she said she went into labour while she was putting up wallpaper.
I intend to tell this story to everyone with children. I’ll begin to collect their projects and I’ll write about them here. In all likelihood I’ll tell this story enough times for Abby to be sick of it by December.
From time to time I quite like being reminded that I am, in fact, an animal. The instinct to nest and build something big in preperation for the arrival of this human feels not disimilar to the way puffer fish must feel when they feel obliged to begin their art projects. Pufferfish get beautiful piles of sand, we get cathedrals and wood sheds.
One of the people I saw that I don’t see all that often was an old friend, the gentleman who made the engagement ring I gave Abby and the one she gave me. He had forgotten Abby was pregnant and when I reminded him and told him that she was due at the end of this month he did a bit of math.
“Hmm, about 38 weeks,
have you started an oversized home-project far beyond your abilities yet?”
I had in fact started just such a project, the aformentioned shed of gigantic propotions. He told me that it was traditional, the very most normal sort of nesting a man who’s a little handy can do. He did an addition on his house when his wife was six months pregnant with their first son.
When I told my mom that story she said she went into labour while she was putting up wallpaper.
I intend to tell this story to everyone with children. I’ll begin to collect their projects and I’ll write about them here. In all likelihood I’ll tell this story enough times for Abby to be sick of it by December.
From time to time I quite like being reminded that I am, in fact, an animal. The instinct to nest and build something big in preperation for the arrival of this human feels not disimilar to the way puffer fish must feel when they feel obliged to begin their art projects. Pufferfish get beautiful piles of sand, we get cathedrals and wood sheds.