Sandwiches, pants, babies…

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A sort of rambly blog post tonight. The rest of the family is asleep but I’m up, kind of on edge, watching over this huge pile of boxes ready to be put in storage tomorrow. I’m glad our realtor is having us put all this stuff away, actually, because it is a good reminder that we probably don’t need to own much of anyway. I’m not an anti-stuff purist (if vintage glass dishes put a smile on my face, is their existence in my home really something to be ashamed of, even though I already own other dishes?), but I don’t want needless clutter in my space, or to be caught up in its acquisition or preservation just for the sake of it. It’s a small leap from “can I store this for 3-6 months” to “can I live without this altogether?” So maybe after this move I’ll shed some of these things for good and feel lighter for it.
In the meantime, it’s prime time to enjoy my favorite sandwich. I didn’t grow a garden this year because of our housing situation, but we’ve still been able to get our hands on enough fresh, local tomatoes to make my very favorite grilled cheese sandwich. It’s mutli-grain bread brushed in olive oil, the inside smeared with pesto, then melty cheese and slices of juicy ripe tomato. Yum, yum, yum. So tasty that eating it just wasn’t enough–I had to be a dork and photograph it for my blog. 🙂

And pants. I said this post was random, right? I made these pants for Worth last week during the sewing frenzy, but never got around to photographing them.

Same funky print as the hat. I don’t have a pattern that has this contrasting back panel so I just cut up the pattern and left a seam allowance around the area I cut. Next time I do something similar I think I’ll start the panel down a bit lower. But I like the way they turned out.

And here’s my boy. He’s not really waving, though it looks like he is. He’ll be six months in 12 more days and is on the eve of getting his first taste of solid food. I took a bunch of pictures of him today to record all his gorgeous fat rolls and chubby deliciousness so I can look back and be proud of this boy I fed. Not that he’s going to stop nursing now, but soon I won’t know which little dimples I can fully take credit for. He’s sitting unassisted now and is getting all this fuzzy new hair. It’s trite but true–they change so fast! I’m totally silly over him, my beautiful boy.

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