August. It's The January Of Summer.

Every year August kills me. Partly it's just that the blush is off the rose with regards to summer fun and summer wardrobes and most especially summer weather. Nearly always by this point in the year, our area is at some level or another of drought, with things going brown and wilty and no one but the most die-hard lawn enthusiasts really caring anymore about weeding or watering. (As I wasn't ever quite what you'd call an enthusiast even back in the lush and promising month of May, you can imagine the state of our yard now.) This year seems like the deadest and hottest August I can remember. As it always does. At least when it's dry as a bone like this you can skip mowing with very little consequence, except maybe a few weed patches here and there which sprout up determinedly. Skipping watering, though- that has some consequences. Like a highly unproductive vegetable garden, and yet another hanging basket which I've managed to kill. (Verdict: involuntary manslaughter by gross negligence.)

I did fill my lunchtime wrap with several Roma tomatoes Jim harvested yesterday, so I guess the garden wasn't a total wash. My eggplants were a disaster though, and the kohlrabi which sounded so crunchy and delicious back in the spring- and which were the only plants to really thrive- now sound gross and I have no idea what to do with them.

You know what else sounded gross today? The turkey that I heated up to put in my wrap earlier, like a dutiful little pregnant person, carefully avoiding listeriosis or whatever poison unheated lunch meat is supposed to contain. It sounded yummy when I pulled it from the fridge, but once I removed it from the microwave, steaming and pungent, my stomach immediately turned and I had to dump it in the dog's dish and then flee before I threw up.

Generally I'm not feeling all that nauseous yet, just a little weird in the mornings. Food just doesn't sound very GOOD first thing, but I don't feel like running to the bathroom, either. Also, I've had some kind of flu thing for the last week or so (it WAS the flu, like fever and body aches, not just the baby parasite) so it's hard to tell what's a pregnancy symptom and what's just lingering lethargy and yuckiness.

Luckily the kids are being relatively cooperative and low-maintenance lately. They're both really on a coloring streak, so I spend most of my day refreshing paper, crayon and raisin/goldfish/milk supplies, then sitting by to admire the dubiously representational drawings produced. Oh, and affirming Eli's choice of color. He knows most of his colors now, but still requires constant confirmation that yes, that crayon is ownj (orange) ownj ownj!!!

Oh, and I'm totally writing this boring and generally purposeless post to avoid rushing off to the pathology lab for another blood draw. I'm supposed to have my progesterone level tested again some time this week, and part of me desperately wants to find out if the hormone supplements are working or not, but another part of me just wants to go on enjoying the hopefulness of our current wait and see attitude. Wonder how long the ambivalent side of me will win out over the control freak side.