little sausages and blow-up mattresses

Raph has been walking with me a lot lately. Ever since we saw the giant boars in the orchard on our drive home. The last thing that I want at 8.5 months pregnant is to be chased or gored by a wild pig. So he has been walking with me. Our road is an overground mess so each of us has to walk in our own tire rut for most of the way which works out fine, but when we got to the short paved section and could walk closer together, I reached out and took his hand. He looked down at my hand in a perplexed way, and I asked, "What's wrong?" "Nothing," he said, "your hand feels fat." What a romantic, huh? It is true though, both my hands and feet fill up with that extra blood volume. I had to remove my rings last week after a walk, when my fingers looked like stuffed sausages. And my feet, well they feel like blow-up mattresses. They get really stressed when I walk on them, as though the air is fighting to get out of the mattress when too many people are on top of it. Lovely little quippet of pregnant life.