Where the hell I've been

So, not only did I not finish NaBloPoMo thanks to my netless adventure to upstate NY at the end of the cursed month o' posting, I've also disappeared from here since my return, just at the point when I finally outed myself to a bunch of friends (hi, friends!) as a blogger. (Good tactic, no? Reveal the existence of the blog, but then fail to post, so they turn away, bored.)

Actually, I've been busy writing elsewhere. I've been hired as a writer and editor for a soon-to-launch website , and it's been sucking up what little free/writing (sadly, for me, they tend to be the same thing) time I can find. As soon as the site goes public, meaning, loses its password protection and eliminates the few remaing bugs, I'll have a link up here. It's a pretty innovative approach to social networking, and I'm enjoying my work there. Mostly, I'm writing about food (and you know I love that) but also about literature, parenting, and whatever else strikes me.

But it does kill the blog energy a bit. So here's the update. We are buying the farm (see picture at the bottom of the site.) These are the things that scare me about it: debt (for a month or two, hopefully not more, we're going to own two houses. This is not something I have ever aspired to, my preppy education notwithstanding.) Small town personal politics. Everyone, where we're going, seems to know and have an opinion about, everyone else. It's a little bit like high school, but with tractors. I find that a bit intimidating. Tractors. Mowing. Land to be maintained, cajoled, probably not tamed. Moving. I hate packing, and unpacking is almost as bad. Leaving my dear, dear friends, who better keep reading this blog so they have some faint idea of where and who I am when I leave behind the life I know and mostly love.


Mieke said...

Francesca is available to talk if you want to discuss the shock of moving into a tiny town from a big city. She's happy to talk about all the great things and the things she wishes were different. For the most part she loves it.

Anonymous said...

I moved from the big city to a small town (more cows than people) back in 1992. I lived in Rural America for 8 years and came to really love the place. You go through an adjustment period when you make a move like this. For the first 6 months you hate the place and feel out of sync. Then you become open to all the possibilities of your new home town.

This new writing gig of yours sounds fascinating. Please let me/us know when the new site launches. I wish I were talented enough to write for a website (and get paid for it). Welcome back!