sometimes poetry is a cucumber

The first vegetable I ever grew. Harvested today. Cool, hey!

Also, I have a sick and uncharacteristically miserable baby. Headcold, bit of fever, bit of throwing up, poor wee mite. Lots of cuddles and sips of water and 'osh, osh, osh'-ing (this family's version of hush.)

The cucumber can wait. Small person to attend to. 


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