Timing

I'm cleaning off the desk. It would be much more efficient to start a small, contained fire, but don't tell our insurance company I said that. I stumble across a yellow sheet of note paper. It reads:

     9:20
     9:28
     9:32
     9:41
     9:49
     9:54
     10:02
     10:15
     10:23
     10:40
     10:47
     10:51
     10:59

This was late July or early August of 2009. I spent my evenings resting my weary feet, watching Monk, and timing contractions.

Sweet Ainsley was on her way, but in no great hurry to arrive.