Yay! I just got back some pictures from the developer (what I wouldn’t do for a digital camera) and immediately scanned the ones I thought you might find most interesting. First of all, here’s a shot of the front of our new home:

And here’s what our living room looks like:

And last, but certainly not least, here are a few pictures of our new family member, the one, the only ZORA!

I’m ready to collapse! I’ve been so busy this weekend. Robert and I spent most of yesterday shopping around for a dining room table. We started out at antique stores and moved on to new furniture outlets. We didn’t find anything we were thrilled with and could afford. We both became quite testy *eg* When we finally got home, we moved all of the computer paraphenalia into the downstairs office room. It’s a much better environment than the tiny little room we were using upstairs. The lack of large windows markedly reduces the glare on our screens and the extra floor space makes it so we are less likely to ram into one another on our rolling office chairs. Here’s to increased marital harmony!

We continued the search for a table this morning and luckily found something that appealed to both of us at Ikea. Frankly, we were shocked that we found anything at that store that we liked. We’ve had nothing but bad shopping experiences there before. It’s usually crowded with extremely rude and obnoxious people. There were quite a few people who fit that bill today–but we got there a little earlier than usual, so we beat the rush. The furniture isn’t of the highest quality, but it looks nice and is certainly affordable. The big drawback is you have to assemble the pieces. As I blog, Robert is pounding on one of the chairs. I don’t dare interfere. You know how it is when men get a wrench or screwdriver in their hands…

It looks as if we’re all ready for Thanksgiving. We’ve got the table. We’ve got the chairs. We even have china.

What we don’t have is a turkey and somebody who knows how to cook it. I hope my mother brings her apron.

Oh! I forgot to mention that Robert and I went to the Seattle Children’s Theatre on Friday night and saw Prince Brat and the Whipping Boy by Sid Fleischman. It was very well done! Funny and touching at the same time. Apparently the theatre gets a lot of calls about why they are showing a play about child abuse. Good grief! It’s not about that at all. FYI, since a prince’s flesh was considered sacred, he could not be spanked when he did something bad. Consequently, a pauper was often taken into service as a “whipping boy,” and as such would receive the punishment intended for the prince. The play pokes fun at this ludicrous arrangement. I highly recommend checking out the book if you cannot see the play or film. Two thumbs up!

Having this blog has taught me that I am not a proficient reader of my emotional state. No, that’s not quite right. I generally have a pretty good sense of how I’m feeling and can put my finger on what’s causing me to feel that way. What I struggle with is translating my thoughts and feelings into words. This difficulty is intensified when I’m called upon to share them with others. Why do I persist? I suppose there is some sort of cathartic element to blogging…and I badly need an outlet. Work requires me to put on my “professional mask,” in which I appear strong, impeturbable, polite, efficient, committed, etc. It would not be OK if I burst into tears just because I was having a bad day. I’m not allowed to shout at the irrational and demanding clients. I can’t use my colorful vocabulary to berate my uncooperative computer. It’s hard to keep all of those feelings bottled up inside. And while Robert is a good listener and cares very much for me, I don’t always want to bore him with stories about angry attorneys and whining clients. I don’t want to bore anyone with those stories. And I really don’t feel comfortable sharing deeply personal information such as my desire to have a baby with others. (I’m almost embarrassed to admit it to myself. Me. Having a baby. Honestly. I’m only 28. Just a baby myself.)

I keep blogging though. Usually I stick to safe topics…skirting the real issues…but even in that skirting comes a lessening of the tensions. I feel better after I blog.