Day 133 – The Pregnant Egg

There is an eloquence in true enthusiasm. – Edgar Allan Poe

Just when I thought there was nothing I could photograph today, I was wrong. (But that’s a usual occurrence in my world, just don’t tell my hubby …)

Today’s mystery “what is it?!?” picture was inspired by a pattern. Can you tell? Do you know?

What Is It?!?

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What Was That?!? Yesterday’s Picture (Day 132)

I mentioned that yesterday’s “what is it?!?” mystery picture had a story behind it, so it’s just about time to tell that story. But first, let me tell you what others thought this mystery subject looked like. Gail said, “You must be spinning around while taking this picture of a purple hat!” Then Andrew chimed in, “Aww…Gail said it before I did.” But alas, it’s not a purple hat nor me spinning around. LOL! Girish thought it looks like satin fabric. Not that either. So now for the story, which reveals the mystery identity!

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When I became pregnant with our son, Ian, our group of friends threw us a baby shower and the women gave me what had become a tradition as a gift for the pregnant women … a glass “egg” paperweight … which celebrated my pregnancy and impending birth. Because I was among the last of us to become pregnant (and had been trying for some time), that glass egg was very symbolic and treasured. I wanted my own! Since yesterday was Mother’s Day, I thought it mighty appropriate to use that glass egg as the subject. Here’s my “pregnant egg.”

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P.S. What a great baby shower gift idea! 🙂

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2 thoughts on “Day 133 – The Pregnant Egg

  1. People often told Simon Colantro that he had a gear loose.
    He was used to derogatory remarks, he had heard them all his life.
    But, someone once said that you get what you focus on so I suppose it was not really a surprise when it happened.
    He collapsed in the waiting room of a famous dentist and was rushed to the Emergency Ward of the local hospital.
    His grandfather was a GP back in the day and this hospital was one of his legacies. He fought tooth and nail to have it established, so it was fitting that his grandson should receive care at this establishment.
    He was rushed to surgery and discharged within ten days; he was a quick healer.
    The worn gear that they removed from his head went home with him in a glass jar.
    The hospital staff were sworn to secrecy but there were still rumours.
    Simon Colantro went on to live a long and productive life but rust was a constant companion.

    Terry

    Like

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