Once again I have abandoned the blog. For once, though, I think I have a good excuse. On my 28th birthday, my soon-to-be-ex-husband packed up and moved to Oregon, no real warning except for waking me up about 4 hours before his flight and asking for a ride. Awesome!

Actually, it was kind of awesome. Other than the having no money, no job, no childcare thing, my life has gotten so much more amazing in the last few months. I’ve had to take a page from the Ice T Final Level school of playerdom –  in which one is reminded that a true player takes care of business first — and thus, the blog and many other things have been on the back burner. Now that my basic hierarchy of needs is once again fulfilled, productivity has returned.

For the foreseeable future, I will be working my homemaking mojo on a lovely former party-house that is transitioning into adulthood. It even has a name — Rosemont. I’ve always loved the idea of houses with names; houses earn names from being genuine landmarks of good living for sustained periods of time. Not to sound to woo-woo, but it does often feel as if there is a sort of groove of human energy here, the way one can feel, on an instrument or a tool, a groove from continued use. So, a perfect place for a faux-Martha to let loose some den-mother instincts.

Since Rosemont is a long-established residence, it’s fully furnished and mostly decorated. And, since my roommate has lived here for five years or so, he’s actually invested in constantly improving the internal workings of the place; he’s always bringing home random, useful found objects, rearranging furniture, drilling holes and nailing things up. Free from the hassle of worrying about that sort of stuff, I have turned my eye to the yard. First things first, I made a run to my old house, which is being foreclosed on, and rescued my babies!

Rescue mission successful!

I had about 7 peony bushes, all but one of which are in their third year. This was supposed to be the big show, but I’ll have to wait for next year. Still, at least they’ve made their way to somewhere safe, no longer at the whims of whatever random grass-cutting mercenary the mortgage company decides to hire. They aren’t looking so hot, but we’ve been having cold snaps, so as long as they live through the next few weeks, I’ll be satisfied.

In another demonstration of the greatness of Rosemont, I came home yesterday to find that my awesome neighbor Mark — a self-described old hillbilly — had brought over six starts while I had been gone. Looks to be four maters, a cuke, and a pepper — all heirlooms, natch:

I literally 'squee'd when I spied this awesome surprise nestled under the shade of the fence.

Which means this week I’ve really got to figure out some sort of set-up for a couple of vegetable beds. It looks like I’m just going to have to do it the old fashioned way — hoeing and some light amending, and hopefully a bit of mulch if I can wrangle it. No raised bed luxury for me this year, but oh well… I might still spring on a soaker hose, though.

And finally, I am slowly, slowly inching my way through a sweater. This is the smallest weight of yarn in which I’ve ever attempted to knit an adult-sized garment, so I’m pretty psyched. It’s Cascade 220 Sport in Camel (8622) . The pattern is Berroco’s Abrianna.

OMG, look at that tiny yarn!

So, that’s just a smidgen of what I’ve been doing, really. MMMB’s new season is starting, so there’s loads of dancing going on in my world. I’ve been working pretty hardcore on picking up a Samba routine, specifically. I’m sticking with the drums, practicing at least every other day, and, to my surprise, I’ve been playing some kind of music — be it singing, violin, keyboards, drums, or whatever — pretty much every single day. I’ve even been doing a bit of sewing. I’m not going to guarantee anything, but I am going to start trying to throw a few more blog entries out there for a while, kind of see how I manage. Until next time, fair readers!

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