Well Birthday Week is beginning at the other end than usual this year. Yes it's my birthday today so Week celebrations will continue right through until next Friday. I'm 38. I'm sitting at the kitchen table here on a lovely sultry tropical Melbourne day looking admiringly at the sort-of present which an Australia Post worker just brought to my door: 6m of Marimekko fabric with which to make curtains for the rather dark unoccupied bedroom on the south side of the house. How I will prewash six metres of fabric I don't really know. It's a sort of present because actually I bought it myself, online from the US, a couple of weeks ago. Thanks to sales and the exchange rate it was only $20 a metre.
I just went and draped it over the curtain rod in there to see how it looked:
Nice and bright, yes. Actually the walls, which are off-white, looked a bit grey next to it. That's OK. The room needs some painting done on it too. Not much, but some.
The design dates from 1971. Who'd have thought. Actually the reason I'm putting up new curtains in there is because I'm going to have a baby in a little while and it does seem crucially important to me that a child receives new curtains upon entering the world, most particularly curtains which come very precisely from the childhood of his own parents. I say 'his' because the baby is a boy, as we learned a couple of weeks ago. I haven't written about being pregnant on my blog until now because I would have had to use singular they in alluding to the baby, or called him 'it', which I don't mind personally but which does seem to disturb some people.
The sex of the baby is the thing pertaining to it/him that people have asked me about most of all. They ask me how I'm feeling (OK, but more of that later perhaps) and then they ask me if I know what I'm having. 'A baby' is what I am tempted to say sometimes, or perhaps 'a little Chinese man' or maybe 'we don't know but we are hoping for a gay.' Ultrasounds and genetic testing have confirmed that he is a human baby, interestingly, given the number of times I dreamed early in the pregnancy that I had just given birth to a litter of lovely kittens. For a while I thought this was a dreaming habit specific to ladies who like cats, but I went to a health lecture run by the hospital I'm having the baby in and the midwife said 'you will have strange dreams' and yes, having kittens was the example she gave. She didn't say though whether this is usually the very happy dream it was for me. I suppose if you don't like cats then it wouldn't be that enjoyable.
But why wouldn't you like cats? I go for a walk every evening after dinner and there's always a few cats sitting in their driveways, just at the fence line, waiting for someone to come along and pat them.
I am past the kitten litter dreaming phase though and onto the boring prophetic dream phase. Last week I dreamed Sam and Dave came to visit us - and the next day they did! (not entirely unexpectedly.) On another occasion I dreamed that Optus cut off the phone because we hadn't paid the bill, and guess what, this one came true too.