Last night, after Dale and I got home from dinner at his mother’s, I heard a crunch when I stepped out of the car. At first, I thought I’d stepped on a nut or twig. When I lifted my foot and looked down, I discovered I’d crushed a large garden snail. The poor thing’s head was writhing around. I icked out and told Dale what had happened. He asked me if I’d put it out of its misery. I said no. He told me to do it. I told him to do it. He told me to do it. I raised my killer foot again and stamped down as quickly and hard as I could. Then I started to feel very very ill. After Dale got the door unlocked, I had to hurry to the bathroom where I ended up dry-heaving.

I’m not surprised I felt guilty about killing the snail, but I am surprised that I nearly got sick to my stomach. Poor snail.

Since before I became pregnant with Olivia, I’ve thought about learning to quilt or knit. I thought it would be nice to work on something for a baby while I was pregnant with her (or him). Of course, I never did. And since then, I’ve discovered that knitting (something I still think of as old-fashioned and quaint) has become a remarkably trendy pasttime. A number of online friends of mine are knitters or quilters. One of the sweetest baby shower gifts we received was a crocheted cap made by a friend of mine.

I’m still thinking about taking up knitting or crochet. Especially since I saw an episode of Law & Order the other day where a female character was wearing a really charming blue crocheted hat. I really want a hat like hers. I wonder if I could find a similar pattern.

I’d probably end up with a tangled lump of yarn. But I bet the cats would love it.

We’ve finally finished watching the last seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. Firefly was watched long ago.

Now how are we gonna get our Joss Whedon fix?