Fellas, try not to be too jealous...

But the fact of the matter is that I have a large, um, zucchini. I mean I'm not trying to brag or anything. I didn't do anything to deserve such a big zucchini. Just nature and luck, I guess.

Anyway, it's all in what you do with it. And with a zucchini this massive, there are lots of possibilities.

Happy Caturday!

If I were you, I would...

Eat some breakfast:

Watch a baseball game:

Take a nap:

Do a little shopping:

Maybe some laundry:

Take a nap:

A little yoga:

... And a couple more naps:

Eating like Aaaaahnold

Did you know that pregnant ladies need a hundred gillion trillion grams of protein a day? It's true. That is the actual number.

So, I could eat turkey-egg-lentil-stuffed meatloaf sprinkled with almonds and topped with a huge dollop of cottage cheese every day.

I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty disgusting to me. And besides, much to my husband's disappointment, I have yet to experience any pregnancy-related cravings to eat anything that used to have feelings.

I'd rather eat this. (And apparently Doug would too...)

Here's what I'm talking about:

Greek yogurt: 23 grams protein

1/2 scoop vanilla whey protein powder, either pre-mixed in the yogurt or sprinkled on each layer: 12 grams

1 serving of Kashi GoLean Toasted Berry Crumble: 9 grams (the normal Kashi GoLean is more proteiny, lower sugar, but less delicious & less crunchy)

= approximately 44 grams of protein. Effective, delicious, easy, light and perfect for summer... and so far has not resulted in any secret love child sex scandals!

24 days later

So there was a massive tornado where I live. The deadliest tornado in the country since 1925. You might have heard of it or seen one of the 2,610 Youtube videos of it like this or like this.

A bunch of people have written about it. There have been multiple calls to share storm stories via Alabama Public Radio and in print. The University of Alabama writing folks have already put out a book about it. They are excellent writers doing what they do best. Many excellent writers have written about the tornadoes. But I do not want to read any of it.

A bunch of people have taken pictures. Immediately after the tornado, cars drove down my street (in the "affected area," which means destruction zone) holding iphones out the windows, driving slowly as though in a parade. Families walked past our house pointing with their cameras at pines slicing living rooms in half. Photographers with their $2,000 zoom lenses seized on images of what, just an hour before, had been places called homes. Places where a couple would no longer snuggle in bed together, a dog would no longer gnaw a chew toy, a toddler would no longer beg her mother to read her just one more bedtime story. I do not want to look at pictures like this and I do not want to take them.

I took two pictures at the insistence of my mother. One is of the currently uninhabitable next-door-neighbor's place, in the middle stage of removing trees off of their roof and car. (My mother asked for a frame of reference for how close we were to destruction. Our place is miraculously, thankfully, fine.) The other picture is of the donation center set up on a destroyed Church of Christ foundation about 1/4 mile from our house. It's where we've been donating peanut butter, loaves of bread, water, diapers, tampons, cat litter... I wanted to remember that place, and I wanted to remember their kindness and gratitude and the fact that these Christians were doing and not saying. Not one of them tried to recruit us to their church or preach to us.

I took both these pictures about a week after the tornado. I felt a little like I was doing something wrong. Like I did not want to be seen taking them.

I understand that documentation is important, and I've been wondering why, especially as a writer, I've been so resistant to be a part of it at this moment. Something about it, perhaps how easily it can turn from Earnest and Necessary Documentation to Touring Someone's Devastation, is uncomfortable.

I've only drafted several poem scraps since the tornado. I can't escape the idea of tall trees being scooped up and thrown down through roofs and windows like massive and deadly pick up sticks all around me. And I can't escape hearing on talk radio that people were found wandering the streets in shock, with one or more limbs severed from their bodies. Images like these have shown up in my poems and will probably persist for a while. The poems are huge scribbly messes that, at least right now, I have no desire to clean up or send out for publication.

As far as writing about the tornado directly, I've wondered if I ever would, or how long it would take me. It's been 24 days today. I don't know why I'm writing this now... perhaps because I'm sick for a week and I'm bored. But I wouldn't say I necessarily felt a sense of urgency to write this. I wasn't compelled to write this.

I have felt compelled, though--every day--to tell my husband how much I love him. I have felt visceral solar plexus necessity in that. The sheer urgency in that. I have felt the urgency to tell my cats, who were scared of the LED camp lanterns we carried to light the way in our home, that things are going to be OK. And that I love them. To tell the post-tornado abandoned newborn kitten we found in our driveway that he's going to make it and that I love him. And most of all, to watch the ultrasound video of our 25 week old fetus over and over again, and to tell whoever's in there how much we love them.

This is what feels natural and comfortable to me. This is what I've been compelled to do.

"Pretend You're Rich" dessert

So, you know how pine warblers get to eat all the pine nuts they want FOR FREE? I have to admit I'm a little jealous.

Pine nuts are one of my favorite things, and since they're also crazy expensive, I only buy them on those rare occasions when I feel carefree about money and like to pretend I'm rich at the grocery store. Thankfully, a very kind-hearted friend recently gifted me a huge bag of Costco pine nuts (and pecans). I'm more thrilled than a girl with two huge nutsacks should be.

If you know what's good and like to pretend you're rich too (and/or that you own an adorable little trattoria in Italy), you might like this:

"Pretend You're Rich" Pine Nut Cookies 

2 c. pine nuts (aka: Pine Diamonds; Pine Trust Funds)
1 c. confectioner's sugar
1/4 c. almond paste (aka: Sweet Daddy Warbucks Paste)
 1 teasp. pure vanilla extract
1 lg. (golden) egg
1/2 c. all-purpose flour (If you wanna go slummin' to keep it real, try the Publix brand.)
 1/4 teasp. baking powder
1/4 teasp. salt
 + zest of one large lemon. This is optional, but what kind of nut doesn't like lemon? (See what I did there?)

How to do it: 

1/ Preheat to 350.
2/ Process 3/4 c. pine nuts, sugar, almond paste, and vanilla in food processor until fine crumbs form.
3/ Add egg & pulse to combine.
4/ Add flour, baking powder & salt; process just until dough comes together.
5/ Roll dough into 3/4 in. balls. Roll balls luxuriously in remaining pine nuts, gently pressing to coat. (Like this.)
 6/ Space well apart, like the rows in fancy private school classrooms.
7/ Bake 10-13 mins. or until just golden brown.

You can go straight to gobbling up all this delicate chewy lemony nuttiness straight out the oven. But high rollin' bakers like me like to make it rain first...

I think they're running out of names

I just saw a commercial for an insulin injector pen thingie called NOVOLOG. Novolog, people. This is the best they could come up with. A bunch of very well-paid Brooks Brothers-wearing pharmaceutical and/or ad people (or whoever names these things) sat down, did some major thinking, or what passes for major thinking among those types, and walked out of the room with "novolog."

As in "new log." As in--for poop-minded/Big Lebowski-minded folks like me--"new poop." If I had to take this medicine there is no way I would not call it "new poop." "I feel a slight dip in blood sugar coming on. Would you please pass my new poop injector pen?"

I am so thankful I also do not suffer from gastroesophogeal reflux disease. Not only does that sound painful, but I'd also have to start buying ASS EFFECTS. 

Nursery necessities

We're really excited about welcoming our delightful little bouncy baby grit into this ridiculous world. That won't happen until September, but as the awesome mom-to-be that I am, you know I've already gotten a jump start on nursery necessities. 

  

To craft: 

To look at: 

To stay hydrated: