Big, Fat Flakes and Babies

Chet was at home for most of last week due to the weather and instead of staring at my computer screen blogging, I stared at him. He didn't stare at me back, though, as he was neck deep in hunting preparation. I had to get a good look at him before he ventures off up north over the next three weekends so I don't forget what he looks like. Over the last few months, everything has been about hunting preparation, buying this and that, washing his clothes in baking soda, and buying easy-to-prepare food. I swear the man dreams hunting, too, randomly sitting up in the middle of the night and taking aim at the closet door. But it's all for a good cause, they all say. This is a way they can feed their family. I actually find it kind of endearing, seeing him get so excited about something. And in the spring, we go through it all again preparing for the Boundary Waters.

When I wasn't staring at him, I was squishing my baby. I just can't get enough of his juicy cheeks and roly-poly thighs and fat little feet. He would love me all day if I sat with him on the couch, holding him so he could watch the new fallen snow. Yes, we had snow on this particular day! The flakes were fatter than Santa and coming down like the blizzard of 1912, er something. But they didn't stick so I can't prove it to you.

When I wasn't staring at my husband or squishing my baby, I was staring at my crocheting projects. Even though I have unfinished mittens, an unfinished apron and many other unfinished projects, I decided to start crocheting a few hats and leg warmers for the Saturday Market. And now I have exactly a week to finish everything I started.

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