Potato Queen and Mulch Boy: Boston Edition!
Does anyone even remember that there was a Potato Queen? It's been so long since I wrote, I forgot what the masthead looked like.
I don't feel guilty for the silence though. We entered 2014 hoping that it would demonstrate marked improvement over 2013, which was chock full of hospitalizations and family crises. Alas, 2014 decided to do its best to make 2013 look like a cakewalk. And so we find ourselves in July of 2015, wondering where the last year and a half went.
Actually, we know where it went: to the hospital, for four extended stays. To the ER, at least seven times times. Even once to a nursing home for rehab (an experience that can only be described with extremely graphic profanity).
All this to say that Mulch Boy was very sick and it wasn't pretty. There were three surgeries--one planned, one emergency, and one to put everything back together after a long and difficult recovery. There were infections and drains and IVs and open wounds and 911 calls and crying and swearing and pretty much everything short of pianos falling from the sky on our heads.
The good news is, Mulch is in one piece and well. It was a very long road to wellness, and I think we'll both carry the emotional scars for a while.
But 2015 has been about healing those scars and putting our lives back together. We've started that by moving up to Boston this past winter to be near family and have a fresh start. That's meant squatting in a one-bedroom apartment while we sold the Little Blue House in Virginia and look for a new house up here.
And now, finally, we are almost settled: The Little Blue House in Virginia is sold (long live the Little Blue House), and three weeks from now we'll be moved into... ANOTHER Little Blue House, in Peabody (PEEbuddy unless you want to be corrected), Massachusetts.
Alas, that means no garden this year. But I am thinking of Moe and Forky, in storage in Maryland till moving day, and beginning to imagine us in our own home again, plotting where the vegetable garden will go, scouting the best location for blueberry bushes, and looking forward to that first cup of tea on the porch.
I don't feel guilty for the silence though. We entered 2014 hoping that it would demonstrate marked improvement over 2013, which was chock full of hospitalizations and family crises. Alas, 2014 decided to do its best to make 2013 look like a cakewalk. And so we find ourselves in July of 2015, wondering where the last year and a half went.
Actually, we know where it went: to the hospital, for four extended stays. To the ER, at least seven times times. Even once to a nursing home for rehab (an experience that can only be described with extremely graphic profanity).
All this to say that Mulch Boy was very sick and it wasn't pretty. There were three surgeries--one planned, one emergency, and one to put everything back together after a long and difficult recovery. There were infections and drains and IVs and open wounds and 911 calls and crying and swearing and pretty much everything short of pianos falling from the sky on our heads.
The good news is, Mulch is in one piece and well. It was a very long road to wellness, and I think we'll both carry the emotional scars for a while.
But 2015 has been about healing those scars and putting our lives back together. We've started that by moving up to Boston this past winter to be near family and have a fresh start. That's meant squatting in a one-bedroom apartment while we sold the Little Blue House in Virginia and look for a new house up here.
And now, finally, we are almost settled: The Little Blue House in Virginia is sold (long live the Little Blue House), and three weeks from now we'll be moved into... ANOTHER Little Blue House, in Peabody (PEEbuddy unless you want to be corrected), Massachusetts.
Alas, that means no garden this year. But I am thinking of Moe and Forky, in storage in Maryland till moving day, and beginning to imagine us in our own home again, plotting where the vegetable garden will go, scouting the best location for blueberry bushes, and looking forward to that first cup of tea on the porch.
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