Well, I suppose my note at the end of my last post ended up being a little prophetic, because our sweet lady Lucy Elizabeth arrived on Wednesday, November 22nd.
I suspected, through the whole pregnancy, that she’d arrive a little early.
She is perfect, and we are happy and exhausted, and whatever life was before her, now it’s so much bigger and better and brighter. She is our light, and we are going to have an amazing adventure together.
So, I’ll be taking a break from the blog for the next few weeks as I figure out this new parent thing. For how long, exactly? I’m not sure. I’ve still got plenty to write, and I’m not leaving forever. But in case I don’t come back before the new year, here’s wishing all of you a very happy holiday season and a wonderful new year! I wish you joy, love, and peace.
As for me? I’ll be over in my comfy chair, rocking a beautiful baby girl to sleep.
I’m not particularly religious, but I love the music, and the lights, and the cheer, and the way that people come together to enjoy food and good company. I can give or take presents. But everything else about the holiday just puts a big, silly smile on my face. You might say I’m “just like a kid at Christmas.” And you wouldn’t be wrong.
And so I’ve spent a fair amount of time this week wondering exactly how I want to handle Christmas this year. With Baby Girl due at the beginning of December, and knowing just how tiring and challenging those first weeks with a new baby are (and also taking into account that it’s cold and flu season), I’m under no illusions that we’re going to have a big family holiday. Frankly, no thank you. Next year, absolutely. Not this one. But I would like to do something to celebrate, and I’m really going back and forth about whether I should put up my tree and other decorations.
On the one hand, it will be our first Christmas together with Baby Girl, and I want it to be special. I’d love to have a picture of all of us in front of the tree.
On the other, decorating is work, and time, and energy. I could probably put things up just fine, but come January 5th, when the twelve days are over, will I really feel like taking things down and putting them away?
Sigh.
It’s not that big of a deal either way, truly. And I know that. But what would you do? To decorate, or not to decorate? Right now, amidst many others, that is certainly a question.
I’m 35 weeks pregnant. Or, more accurately, I’m 35 weeks and 3 days pregnant. If you’ve ever been pregnant, you’ll know that those three days, at this stage, definitely, absolutely matter.
I came at 34 weeks and 2 days, which means that I’m officially more pregnant than my mother has ever been, which is a strange feeling. And my own Baby Girl does not seem to be in a similar hurry at this point, which I’m definitely grateful for. I want her to stay in there and grow and get strong for as long as she needs to. She’s currently squirming near my belly button, and I’m so thankful that she’s there and safe and, as far as I can tell, pretty darn happy in her little water bed. But y’all, I’m so ready to meet her.
This hasn’t been a journey of nine months. From the time that we decided to try for a baby, through our horrible miscarriage, up to now, Graham and I have been waiting for this moment for almost two years. I’m ready for go time. I’m not afraid to give birth. I’m not worried about the pain. I’m just ready. There is one way for her to come into this world, and that’s out of me. I’m not scared. I’m excited.
But I’m also exhausted, both mentally and physically. I can’t get comfortable – ever, really, but especially at night. I can’t sleep. I have to pee all the time. My back and hips hurt. My belly feels tight and itchy. Some days, I can’t get enough food. Some days, even the thought of crackers makes me want to vomit. My feet and ankles and fingers are swollen. And though I’m not particularly weepy or grouchy, when I do feel an emotion – any emotion – I feel it more deeply and for more time than I think I ever have before. Pregnancy is crazy. And empowering, humbling, magical…
As we get closer to her due date, I find that I’m having trouble focusing on much of anything. I can’t write the way I normally do, because I can’t really give anything my full attention for more than, like, 15 minutes at a time. Thus, the multi-part short story to finish out the year. It’s the only way I can really get it done. And while we have everything I think we’ll need when Baby Girl arrives, we haven’t set up our nursery. Everything is just sitting in our parlor. It’s organized, but it’s certainly not where I want it to be.
We’ll get there. She has a place to sleep, clothes, diapers… We’re going to be okay. Even though we’re not quite as put together as I’d hoped at this point, and with the ongoing renovation work, things are a little less than ideal, we’re going to be fine.
And I feel like I ought to just get used to that feeling moving forward. Plans? Eh, good luck. Expectations? Keep them nice and low. Boundaries? Yes, needed, set them now. I am learning to be okay with chaos.
I don’t know what this blog will look like once she’s here. I’d like to keep writing and posting. I plan to. I love reading your work. I’m hoping that even if I have to pull back for a while, I won’t go radio silent. We shall see. But for now, know that I’m grateful to you for inspiring me, engaging with me, enjoying what I create, and sticking with me. These next few months will look different, but who knows? Different could be just what I needed. Different could be perfect.
And no matter what, there will be so much love in our little farmhouse. I wonder if Baby Girl knows, even now, just how very loved she is. Soon enough, she will.
In what is becoming one of my favorite traditions for the spooky season, I stopped by the (maybe) most haunted house in Loudoun County again this year.
It’s little more than a ruin now, and has been for some time. I don’t think it’s been inhabited since the 1980s, possibly before, and it’s fascinating and sad to watch it crumble. You can see signs that it was once a beloved, well-kept home – the delicate dental molding at the front, what was once a fireplace on the second floor, remnants of bright white paint on the exterior bricks.
It’s certainly not a home anymore. But whether it’s empty? Well, who can say for sure?
P.S. As I did last year and the years before, I’ll add this disclaimer: This house is on private property, and there are no trespassing signs posted, so please don’t go poking around where you’re not welcome. It’s easy enough to take a picture from the road.
*And one more quick note: October’s short story will be posted one day late, on November 1st. I think it’s going to be a good one, so check back if you’re interested!*
When Graham and I decided to buy an old house, and in the process of looking for just the right one, a surprising number of people asked us if we were worried about ghosts. And the short answer is, no, not especially.
I believe in ghosts. I always have. And I’ve been to a few places I’m certain are really, truly haunted. But I’m not particularly afraid of ghosts, and as we toured historic homes, I wasn’t concerned that we might be walking into our own ghost story.
We did look at one home – it was our second choice, actually – that I felt pretty certain had a ghost or two.
But our house? No, I don’t think it’s haunted.
It’s a question we get a lot. Every time someone comes to visit for the first time, they usually ask. And I can’t blame them! This is, after all, a very old house in a very old village with a cavalry battle in its history. There’s certainly been a lot of opportunity for this house to acquire a spirit or two.
And sometimes, I wonder if I might be wrong.
Often, people will suggest we do a ghost hunt. They’ll offer, and talk about how exciting it would be, and how their friends are really into that kind of thing. And…just no. Y’all, I have to live here. Why would I want to invite the possibility of being frightened in my own home?
This house is cozy. It’s happy. I’ve always felt like it’s a happy space. And so, even if there is a ghost or two roaming around, I don’t think they have any intention of bothering us. I feel lucky to live here, and grateful. A house doesn’t have to have a ghost story to have a story. I’m fortunate to be part of this one.
Halloween and Christmas are my two favorite holidays, and I’d have a really hard time choosing between them. But there is one thing that I love that’s definitely more Halloween, and that’s a good ghost story.
(As you can imagine, A Christmas Carol is an absolute forever favorite. Christmas and ghosts? Yes, please!)
But over the last few weeks, as I’ve been sitting a lot, thinking about writing without actually writing much, I’ve been pondering: What makes a good ghost story? What elements come together to make something truly spooky? Or sad. Or happy. Not every ghost story has to be scary. Right?
Or should it?
When I think about my favorite ghost stories, there isn’t really anything consistent among them. Some are scary. Some are psychological. Some are funny.
I love BBC’s Ghosts, which is funny and heartwarming and about as far from creepy or spooky as you can get. I was really struck by the quiet, tense storytelling of I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House. Netflix’s The Haunting of Hill House is sort of a revelation for psychological hauntings – the things that haunt us not because they’re real ghosts, but because they’re our ghosts. The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman is sweet and sad. Jonathan Stroud’s Lockwood and Co. series (the books, but the show on Netflix, as well) is such an interesting exercise in building an alternate world that feels close to our own, but is one we definitely wouldn’t want to live in. And certainly some of the old stories, like The Turn of the Screw and The Tell-Tale Heart, they stick with me. That building sense of dread, there’s really nothing else like it.
All of that to say, there are so many components, I think, that can make a really good ghost story. And some that can make an otherwise great story feel hokey and silly. Jump scares are fun, but they need to be used sparingly for maximum impact. There’s more to fear in what you don’t see, what you imagine and build up in your head, than in what you do see.
I’m rambling, I know. But I’m curious. What are your favorite ghost stories? What draws you in, or pushes you away? How do you like to see ghost stories end? Do you like to be scared in the first place?
I do, within the secure confines of my comfy chair and cozy living room. And that’s the power of stories, isn’t it? To be scared – or sad, or angry, or worried – but ultimately safe.
We’ve got some family visiting this weekend, and we’ve planned what I hope will be a very enjoyable baby party, despite the weather not cooperating. (Because yes, after a whole summer with no rain, it now rains like clockwork every Saturday.)
So, in light of the upcoming busy-ness, I’ve decided to take a quick blogging break. I don’t like to do this without planning ahead, but I feel like I can’t focus well on my writing right now. So much else going on over these next few days! (And that’s not even mentioning the work going on in the house – the bathroom’s coming together!) It’s lovely, appreciated chaos, and I’m so excited to celebrate Baby Girl with some of my favorite people in the world.
And hopefully, I’ll have the energy to do just that, because you guys, pregnancy takes it out of you. I can’t sleep these days. It’s impossible to get and stay comfortable, and Baby Girl is a little gymnast. If I don’t nap for a couple of hours during the day, I’m pretty much a drooling zombie. But a very happy drooling zombie. We’re 32 weeks on Friday, and I just can’t wait to meet this kid. If you’d told me three years ago I’d be looking forward to motherhood this way, I would have called you crazy. Now, I’m so ready for this shift, and I’m eager to see who I’ll be – how I’ll change, how I won’t – come December. But I do miss sleep. Already. And as I understand it, that doesn’t get better for a little while. Worth it, though. So worth it.
All of that being said, I’ll be back on Wednesday, October 18th, and I’ve got lots of fun posts planned – an update on the (possibly) most haunted house in Loudoun County, some thoughts on spooky season and why Halloween is the best, a call for some Q&A questions now that I’ve hit 1000 followers (thank you so much for reading and sticking around!), and of course, October’s short story.
So, stop by next week and we’ll catch up! For now, happy creating, y’all!
Now that the kitchen is finished, I spent some time this weekend rearranging things a bit. Nothing major – just some tweaks to how I’d decorated, because it’s always nice to change things up and make things fresh, right?
Well, Merlin must agree, because he found a new spot (yes, another one), and I’d say he fits right in, wouldn’t you?
Yes, he’s quite the showpiece.
Alas, I evicted him shortly after taking the picture, and he had to find another comfy nook to look handsome in. But he managed. As cats do.
Figured we could all use a smile on this Monday morning, and Merlin always obliges, doesn’t he? 😊
Upstairs bathroom renovation starts this week. Short story hopefully on Friday. Happy creating, y’all!
First of all, I passed my 3-hour glucose tolerance test. “With flying colors,” said my provider. The test itself was just as awful as I thought it would be, but I’m still grateful for it, and I’m grateful to know the results. The momentary discomfort is worth the knowledge, and if things had turned out differently, I would have been glad to know that, too. Once upon a time, I wouldn’t have known at all, and the outcome for me and Baby Girl might very well have been affected. I’m thankful to be alive and pregnant in a time when testing like this is available, routine, and designed to help both mama and baby stay healthy.
So, yay! I can still have cake and other lovely sweet stuff, which is nice, because yesterday was our ten-year wedding anniversary, and Graham and I celebrated with a really good dinner capped off with a very tasty dessert.
White chocolate bread pudding with apple gelato and jam. So, so delicious. (If you want to get it, too, and find yourself in our little corner of Virginia, then I’d encourage you to check out The Ashby Inn and Restaurant in the beautiful village of Paris, Virginia.)
Ten years married, almost fifteen together, and Graham is still my favorite person in the whole world. 10 out of 10. Would marry again.
And on top of the other good stuff this week, work on the kitchen is coming along wonderfully and should be done quite soon.
The tile looks great, the cabinets and countertops complement each other exactly as I thought they would, and the retro-style appliances fit right in.
Not every week is a great week, but this one’s been pretty good, all things considered. I’m 28 weeks pregnant today, which means I’m officially in my third trimester, and I just can’t wait to meet this baby. I know our world will look very different soon, but I’m ready for those changes, and excited for them. Right now, the future sure does look bright. And I’m just very, very happy.
A Virginia Writer's Diary 