We rescued a turtle today!
John and I were on our usual walk, and about 5 minutes into it I saw a turtle in the middle of the street. John picked it up and we inspected it for tire tracks (it had not been smooshed). He was about the size of a large orange. John named him Herman and he came along on our walk. John had to carry him, otherwise our walk would have taken days. Hehe.. When we got home we put him in the lake behind our house and off he swam!
It reminded me of another turtle rescue incident. It happened probably about a year ago now, before I moved to Florida. I was visiting John and we went on a canoe trip. We paddled past a little turtle about the size of a silver dollar sitting on a lily pad. He really looked like wanted to hitch a ride, so into the canoe he came for a while.
While enjoying the beautiful scenery, me in the front of the canoe and John in back, I suddenly felt a very sharp slap against the side of my head and down my shoulder. I thought at first it was a bird, but then I looked down and saw a HUGE fish flopping around my feet. I was yelling at John to get it out but what was he going to do?? You can't just get up and walk around a canoe, especially not someone John's size! In between bursts of laughter, John told me to just throw it out of the canoe. I kept trying to grab it but it was super slippery. Finally I reached behind me and grabbed the first piece of cloth I felt and used that to grab the fish.. turns out it was John's t-shirt. John kept joking about how many people we passed along the banks with their fishing poles, waiting patiently for a bite, and all I have to do is sit there and the fish jump into my boat. I think John wet himself several times that day remembering the fish jumping out of the water and slapping me in the head. I imagine from his point of view it was quite amusing!
As far as baby news goes.. I finally puked. Very sad. It happened yesterday before lunch. I allowed myself to get too hungry and I ended up getting sick. It was actually a combination of things. I was getting a little bit hungry and decided I wanted Subway for lunch, so John packed me up and off we went. (He is so good to me.) Just to warn you, a yucky story is to follow, so stop reading if you are eating lunch.
Once we got to Subway, I changed my mind and decided I wanted something else, so we continued driving. We passed a deli and we went inside to get sandwiches and I started browsing for fresh produce. (I'm trying to make this really long story kind of short. It's really long, ask my mother.) So we gather our purchases and head home to eat our lunch on the back porch and I am not feeling so well so I grit my teeth. I hate puking, as I have mentioned a hundred times already. A few hairs were tickling my face so I brush them away, but the bad thing is.. THEY WERE STUCK BETWEEN MY GRIT TEETH. So they break off in my mouth. That's gross enough but I'm about to toss my cookies and now I have to let go of my teeth to fish these hairs out of my mouth. I start coughing and gagging and poor John can't do anything but ask me if I'm going to throw up. I whimper "I don't know.." and walk towards the bathroom, close the door, and bow to the throne. My body had nothing to sacrifice to the porcelain god, it being empty and all. I swear I heaved so hard I nearly ended up head first in the toilet myself. I kept my eyes shut and fumbled around for the toilet paper and flusher (I didn't want to look at it). When I was done I was a trembling mess with a face full of tears. I cleaned myself up as best I could, went out to the back porch, and ate the tastiest sandwich I had ever had. Funny how this pregnant stuff works.
By the way.. I am officially 2 months pregnant today. Yay!