Tuesday, April 19, 2011
I can already tell the worst part about not being able to use my right hand, other than this silly hunt and peck typing method I'm perfecting, is the inability to create. To make beautiful, fun, original things with my son.
Yesterday we took a walk around the neighborhood. Across the street is an open field where he picked a small spring bouquet of early flowers. When we returned home I made us a lunch of scrambled eggs and toast with homemade raspberry jam. I picked one of the little brown eggs our Light Brahma laid and knocked the top off just a bit with a knife. Rinsed, filled with water, and nestled into a porcelain egg holder it's the perfect little vase for my tiny bouquet.
It's about all the craftiness I'm able to manage right now, but it's perfect for the little handful of flowers he brings me.
I love his sweetness.