The days are filled with so much now. They are both long and short and not like any others. Everything feels full and sweet. Amelia sleeps as I write. She is awake much more now, but at this moment: quiet, quiet. Outside the windows the season has definitely turned to fall. Our trees glow yellow and maroon and crimson red. Yesterday Andy spent the afternoon cleaning up the yard. The rains are starting today, and the sky has turned opal white. Frosted glass. The house is warm and dark. The fireplace is hard at work. The lamps are lit low, even at mid-day. From early morning until night, the bulbs glow like illuminated peaches. The baby's room is robin's egg blue with rosebud wallpaper, the slanted-ceilinged corners lit by tiny bulbs behind rose-pink shades. When I check in on her in her crib, it's like looking in on a pearl in her pearly shell.
We have the nicest, nicest family and friends I could ever hope for. People come throughout the day to catch a glimpse of my fair lady with her eyes open. They bring salads and casseroles and soups and enchiladas and emapanadas and apple cakes and gingerbread cakes and roasted chicken with potatoes. It's glorious. For lunch we quick-munch turkey sandwiches and chips; for dinner we are well taken care of by our industrious crew. I am so grateful for this kind of love.
Miss Clover Honeytoes Meadow Paulson has taken to big-sisterhood as if she were born to it. She seems to have been waiting for the chance to prove how good she can be at this. She's very, very quiet and gentle when she is anywhere near Amelia. It's kind of amazing how she just knows to be that way. I'm so proud of her. We are still quite cautious with her, and have given her plenty of space to get used to this new member of our pack (and, also, plenty of attention). But she knows what's up, I think. Clover is a gentle soul, and naturally cautious, and quietly protective. When we are in the living room and Amelia is in her cradle, Clover lies under it. I put her dog bed there after I saw her do it several times. Dog of love. Thank you to those of you asking about how she and the Bee are doing! I think the Bee is still, for the most part, completely oblivious. She comes and gets some food and some pats a few times a day, as she always has, and she's looked at the baby a few times, I think. But she's Bridget. And that's about what (and all) I expected from her!
Andy is over the moon. I'm floaty, and tired, and so happy, and wandering around in utter amazement. Still dazed. Frequently teary. So happy. Just can't believe it. I can't believe she's finally here. I really can't believe she's really here. Wow.
