today is the hardly the tomorrow I was promised yesterday

girls at the party, one and two; ink on paper (pages from a text book), 6.5 x 8.25, illustrations for a story.

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Let's just get this out of the way first, shall we? No. Peanut. Yet.

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And our Spike the Punch cabaret on Friday night went over very well, thanks. Billeh was a live wire as a host and all the readers got up there and honestly delivered, all of them thoughtful and entertaining and giving the audience a real taste of the bigger stories they had to tell.

C and I didn't get to as many festival events as we would have liked, having to play it day by day, according to how she was feeling, but we did enjoy a few and both of us were inspired and impressed by the success of the whole thing. The organizers, the volunteers, the writers ... all did a fabulous job.

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And now, back to this business of waiting. Peanut is being very bad, and C is getting very impatient (and nauseous, and uncomfortable), and just wants to meet her, so she can let her know what time it is, and start off as we mean to go on.

What can I do? Make supper, keep the house clean, quietly murder the cats, keep gas in the car. And keep working, like these two drawings above, which are illustrations for a long story I'm trying to finish.

p.s. The title of this post is lifted from a Victor Burgin photo-poem.


  1. oh the waiting. it's the hardest part. sadly the medical profession has no clue really about WHEN babies are done growing inside. They should just give a month for the possible event. that way everyone would be a whole lot more relaxed.
    Sounds like you both had a nice weekend though! Keep that house clean and all the best for you both!
    p.s.! oooh my word verification is so perfect!!! keep it:


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