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Jul. 10th, 2009 10:53 amYesterday was a long day.
Remus was ever so kind, and spend a good long while with me, talking and drinking tea. Well, he had tea and I had warm milk. And I mostly talked, and he mostly listened. It’s such a wonderful gift to be able to simply sit down and talk with a good friend over a cup of something warm, and I was very grateful for his company.
We all dealt with things in our own way -- I kept getting maudlin, and Remus was quiet and jumpy, and Frank made quite a racket in the storage shed and went on a long walk with Winston. He got back early this morning, looking a bit worn out and in the need of some plaster for his knuckles, but he was calm and steady and back to being my dear Frank again.
We had a long talk about a lot of things, and I suggested he take a trip to Blackpool to see if he can catch a glimpse of Neville and Evelyn. He’s in need of a pick-me-up, and besides, we need to confer with Augusta about a few things that will be easier done in person. He’ll be discrete, of course, and I don’t think there’s any danger -- it’s been almost two years since his last wanted poster went up, and he hasn’t shaved for a couple of days, so he doesn’t look like his picture very much at all. He’ll keep the journal close by in case Kevin decides to make an inopportune entrance, but I can certainly spare him for an hour or two.
In other news, I am sick and tired of being pregnant, and am very much looking forward to not being pregnant any more, thank you very much. My due date is on Tuesday, and Stephen has promised me that he’ll whip up something that’ll help matters along if nothing has happened by then. Everyone has been quite attentive -- every time I say hello to someone or call out someone’s name, they look as if they expect me to tell them that I’m in labour, and they look mildly disappointed when I’m not. Laura tells me that Frank and Remus have gotten into the habit of obsessively checking their journals when they’re not in my direct vicinity, just in case. Stephen is constantly pottering about in his laboratory, trying to make sure he has everything as ready as it can be with our limited supplies, and he’s even worked it into his lessons with the children -- they’ve been writing essays about pain-reducing draughts for pregnant women, and how they’re made differently and administered in different dosages than the usual potion. So, in short, absolutely everyone (especially me) has babies on the brain, and we’re all as ready as we can be. I can’t say I’m not nervous -- my last two births took place in hospital -- but I feel so much better with Stephen here and Poppy on her way. Regardless, this baby is coming, and is coming soon (and thank Merlin for that).
Remus was ever so kind, and spend a good long while with me, talking and drinking tea. Well, he had tea and I had warm milk. And I mostly talked, and he mostly listened. It’s such a wonderful gift to be able to simply sit down and talk with a good friend over a cup of something warm, and I was very grateful for his company.
We all dealt with things in our own way -- I kept getting maudlin, and Remus was quiet and jumpy, and Frank made quite a racket in the storage shed and went on a long walk with Winston. He got back early this morning, looking a bit worn out and in the need of some plaster for his knuckles, but he was calm and steady and back to being my dear Frank again.
We had a long talk about a lot of things, and I suggested he take a trip to Blackpool to see if he can catch a glimpse of Neville and Evelyn. He’s in need of a pick-me-up, and besides, we need to confer with Augusta about a few things that will be easier done in person. He’ll be discrete, of course, and I don’t think there’s any danger -- it’s been almost two years since his last wanted poster went up, and he hasn’t shaved for a couple of days, so he doesn’t look like his picture very much at all. He’ll keep the journal close by in case Kevin decides to make an inopportune entrance, but I can certainly spare him for an hour or two.
In other news, I am sick and tired of being pregnant, and am very much looking forward to not being pregnant any more, thank you very much. My due date is on Tuesday, and Stephen has promised me that he’ll whip up something that’ll help matters along if nothing has happened by then. Everyone has been quite attentive -- every time I say hello to someone or call out someone’s name, they look as if they expect me to tell them that I’m in labour, and they look mildly disappointed when I’m not. Laura tells me that Frank and Remus have gotten into the habit of obsessively checking their journals when they’re not in my direct vicinity, just in case. Stephen is constantly pottering about in his laboratory, trying to make sure he has everything as ready as it can be with our limited supplies, and he’s even worked it into his lessons with the children -- they’ve been writing essays about pain-reducing draughts for pregnant women, and how they’re made differently and administered in different dosages than the usual potion. So, in short, absolutely everyone (especially me) has babies on the brain, and we’re all as ready as we can be. I can’t say I’m not nervous -- my last two births took place in hospital -- but I feel so much better with Stephen here and Poppy on her way. Regardless, this baby is coming, and is coming soon (and thank Merlin for that).
