Distinctions

Me: Oh no, that is not a mime jam jar in the window.
Bryan: Where?
Me: Uh. Right there.
Bryan: Technically, that’s a Harlequin.
Me: No. Shut up. No.
Bryan: I’m just saying, there’s a difference.
Me: Baby… Did you not hear me say shut up?

Pregnancy Doesn’t Suck, Part 2

For almost an entire year, you never once worry about sucking in your gut. Your gut is adorable! If you make any effort whatsoever to be presentable (say, applying lipstick and avoiding sweatpants) people exclaim over how you seem to be glowing. You’re adorable!

You fantasize about reclaiming your high-school figure once the baby is born. You can do this without a moment’s guilt for not heading straight to the gym. “In a few months, I will reclaim my high-school figure!” you think to yourself triumphantly.

You know what sounds good? Cookies.

More Plantiness

Someone in my Flickr comments reminded me that I meant to post a link to the tiny little terrariums created by Paula Hayes. Makes you wish you had a pair of tweezers, a pitcher of mojitos, and a free Saturday.

Also, lots of people are asking about the bromeliads, or tillandsia, or “plants that don’t need dirt.” If you’re one of them, you can get your very own be-tentacled plant at Paxton Gate, which is my very favorite nursery/entomology/art/taxidermy store in the city. You can stop by or order plants by calling or emailing them.

How To Make Nesting Terrariums

Originally uploaded by MaggieMason.

I like dirt. Unfortunately, apartment living in San Francisco doesn’t afford much opportunity for gardening, and we travel so much that most houseplants come with a built-in death sentence.

I decided I wanted to make some terrariums with succulents, so we’d have some green around that didn’t require too much upkeep. Here are the results.

I used antique apothecary jars that we picked up at the flea market for $60 each. We bought two small bags of cactus mix, which I used as a base, and one bag of decorative gravel to pour over the top. The project was surprisingly easy, but I still managed to trip over a few things. So:

Mistakes for you to avoid

-My jars came with lids. I think this would be great for ferns, which love humidity, but not so good for cacti. I ended up just taking them off because everyone looked sad, but the lids are so awesome that I’m bummed.

-Most of the bigger plants we bought were useless because there was such a small area to landscape. The two-inch plants were ideal, and way, way cheaper to boot. As you can see, I ended up putting most of the bigger plants in pots and vases I had laying around. (Yes, I have entirely too much stuff laying around.)

-I put one bigger plant in a jar because I loved it so much, and ended up bruising the crap out of it. Also, some of the outer leaves were touching the jar, which kills them. It looks like I’ll need to cut off all the outer ring of foliage to keep things from getting dire.

Suggestions

-I used a few plants that don’t need dirt, and they were heavenly. Impossible to kill or bruise, and super easy to place.

-I plan to get some little ceramic dinosaurs and things to place among the plants, as I think it would be hilarious. Mushrooms would be equally funny in a woodland scene.

–I’m watering every few days with a couple squirts from a spray bottle, and it seems to be working out, but I watered the soil at first to give the plants help with transition. UPDATE: Gayla says:
“Misting the soil directly about once a month is all that is needed for most cacti and succulents of the desert sort. Unlike most plants they don’t need to be watered when planted but prefer to adjust for a few days before a first water.
Definitely keep those lids off! Even with the humidity-loving tilandsia ’cause the lack of air circulation will drive them straight to Death By Rot.”

That’s it! Do this, it’s fun.

Pals

Definitive proof that I act like that even when denied access to cocktails. Reader tip: Cultivate friendships with talented people who can still make you look awesome in photographs, even when you’re the size of a barn.

Pregnancy Doesn’t Suck, Part 1

Wake at 3 a.m. to realize that 3 a.m. is a ridiculous time to be asleep. Draw a bath, shed your nightgown, and soak weightless in the tub. Read the latest New Yorker from cover to cover in absolute silence.

Plug the overflow drain with a washcloth, so the warm water covers your belly and laps against the nape of your neck. When your toes get wrinkly, dry yourself off and turn on a dim light in the living room. Have a cup of tea and a small slice of rosemary cake. Fall asleep on the couch.

Pica

There’s something so Karmicly satisfying about this story:

Oops! Unruly flier slaps undercover air marshal

In other news, my return of morning sickness turned out to be an extremely nasty but short-lived bug (food poisoning?). Never has recovering from a flu been a more blissful experience. Thank you all for your good wishes and commiserations. Edith Meyer even sent a delicious little rosemary cake! How lucky do you have to be to have people send you cake when you’re cranky? When does that ever happen? Also, her handwriting was so good that I almost ate the note too.

I’ve decided that I need to put together a little compendium of lovely things about being pregnant to balance my bitching. Forthcoming.