Waltz In Exile

1 January 2013, 7:50 pm
Filed under: Exile | Tags:

It’s time.

After 7 years, 1 month and 26 days in Exile, it’s time to go.

Re: geography, we’re not really going that far. And yet – worlds apart.

Catch you on the flip side?


*From here – v. MN. To leave quickly without being noticed.  

29 December 2010, 4:23 pm
Filed under: Exile, Not at all what I expected, Photos | Tags: , , ,

Sorta blah being me these days.  Which is not to say I don’t have an awesome husband, and amazing kids, and the best friends EVER.  I do.  And I know it.  And I try to show how much I appreciate them.

I’m just…yeah.  Still that.  Whatever it is. Continue reading


It’s not like I haven’t been doing anything worth writing about.  Some of it, I feel like I don’t have the talent to write about adequately, because it was SO awesome (see: Tous les comtesses; BlogHer ’10; family wedding; ran my first two 5Ks EVER.)  Some of it, I was too tired after living/experiencing/dealing with it to write about (see: Husband gets Master’s degree & turns 40 [aka June]; ran my first two 5Ks EVER.)  Some of it, I’m in too much of a funk to write about (see: Still in Exile; still hate job; still 40.)  Continue reading


I know, I know: I totally suck. I’m worse than Trannyhead; she’s at least growing another human being and has some excuse. Also, she included hawt seasonal Sumo pictures. I’m not even going to have any cute goat photos to distract you with, because I can’t find my camera.

I’ve neglected my blog. I’ve neglected YOUR blogs. My feed reader shows triple digit “new” posts. And when I tried to catch up a little bit today, the first thing I read was Steph’s great post about connecting with people via teh interwebz and I felt so effing bad I couldn’t continue. Also, fadkog and Auds have posted about thirty gajillion times since the last time I managed and now I’m overwhelmed with how far behind I’ve fallen and can’t write a word. Continue reading

31 July 2009, 4:26 pm
Filed under: Exile, P3 | Tags: , , , ,

You know the thing I’m discovering about motherhood? Those hard and fast rules I made for myself? Not really so hard and fast. I find myself changing my mind a lot, actually.

The latest example? My insistence on proper vocabulary and word use, which I really thought was a stellar idea: Continue reading

Liveblogging: Goat-free Hour #106

Just spent a very tense 5 minutes thinking Seely Booth was actually dead (or, in the words of Goat Daddy: “They killed the Angel FBI guy?”)  Thank goodness he’s actually fine.

What.  Yes I know he’s pretend.  Don’t judge me.

So it’s been a little crazy ’round here, even sans chevres.  Probably just that whole having a job thing (I’m still getting used to it.)  It is pretty nice to get up in the morning and only feed one person (um, me) breakfast, dress one person, pack one person’s lunch, brush one person’s teeth, brush one person’s hair… You get the idea.  Also, not doing goat drop-off means it takes me about 7 minutes to get to work.  (It’s reminiscent of Nannypalooza 2008, actually. Including the eerie quiet when I get home. Except — the house is exactly like I left it. Nice! But weird.)

We’ve talked to the goats every day since they left, except for yesterday (at 10:00, we decided that we weren’t waiting for them to call, and called them instead, only to find out they were already asleep in anticipation of a trip to Amish country today. I did talk to Goat Cousin, though, who made a point of telling me how well-behaved they were, and “an absolute joy” to have around, and “you’re really raising them right,” which was lovely [and unprecedented] to hear.)

Monday night when we talked to them, they had zero interest in talking to us. Probably because they were out at Meadow’s, having frozen custard with Grandma (which I’ve since found out is happening daily.) They assured us they were having fun and hung up on us as soon as they could get away. After Goat Daddy put the phone down, he looked at me and said “They don’t miss us at. all.” I just laughed; I’m totally good with that. I don’t want them homesick and bawling; I want them to have fun! (And let’s face it: if your options were the same old routine with Mom & Dad, who almost never take you out for frozen custard, OR hanging out with Grandma and cousins and going to ballgames and riding a tractor and having frozen custard every day? You’d choose Grandma, too. For a little while, at least.)

So they’re having fun, and being good, and eating too much junk food. And I’m watching too much TV, and sleeping like it’s my job, and just enjoying life in Exile at DEFCON 4 (I’m too paranoid to get all the way down to 5.) So far, so good.

We’ll see how much longer I can enjoy life without mah behbehz here. Today I couldn’t find one of my own hair elastics so I wore one of Goat #2’s; it made me smile. Missing them, but not homesick and bawling (yet. I can totally see myself sobbing over the same “hayr thang” right about Hour #240. [Bet you can’t wait to read about that, huh?])

Liveblogging: Goat-free Hour #58

Goat Daddy’s at a meeting, and I am (um, yet again) ensconced in the corner of the couch, watching tv.  BUT!  I have an excuse! Continue reading

Liveblogging: Goat-free Hour #40
15 June 2009, 12:32 am
Filed under: Exile, For Fun, Goat-free, Marriage | Tags:

[censored] yet again!

Liveblogging: Goat-free Hour #30

My offspring just called to tell me they’ve been riding around in a tractor-pulled cart all morning and helping Goat Cousin sort out things for a garage sale.  Goat #1 was especially excited to tell me that “there’s an iron, Mom, an iron, and Grandma said if we needed one that we could have it, and Mom, WE DON’T HAVE AN IRON, MOM!

Um, yes, we do.  But thanks for letting Grandma know that we must not have one because you’ve never ever ever seen your mother use it.  (No, I don’t iron.  I hate to iron.  And I suck at it.  [Now that Grandma knows, we might as well tell teh intarwebz, right?]) Continue reading

Liveblogging: Goat-free Hour #1
13 June 2009, 10:27 am
Filed under: Exile, Family, Goat-free, Goats, Marriage | Tags: , , ,

National Geographic channel.  Continue reading