Ahoy all ‘n a happy national natter like a pirate day! I hope ye all ‘ave had fun drinkin’ ‘n dancin’, ‘n ‘ave enjoyed a tasty pirate grub!
We didn’ do too much herrrre, mostly rearranged th’ furniture ‘n hung out. We had a tasty stew fer grub wit’ a nice bottle o’ wine.
Oliver ‘n I went t’ our first Mom’s Club meetin’ today. It went really well! I like th’ mom’s in th’ group a lot, ‘n it looks as though thar are goin’ t’ be a lot o’ fun thin’s t’ do o’er th’ next few months.
I be especially pleased t’ see we be goin’ t’ FrightFest at Great Adventure next month. Lee ‘n I went when I was pregnant ‘n I basically couldn’t ride anythin’, so I ‘ave been achin’ t’ go ‘n actually ride th’ rides! Wit’ no sprogs along even!
We be also goin’ t’ be doin’ a few fun charitable thin’s, includin’ helpin’ th’ sprogs make blankets fer residents o’ an assisted livin’ ship nearby.
Tomorrow I plan t’ pillage th’ garage fer loot fer a yard sale. I ‘ave several boxes full o’ unknown booty that I be sure will work fer a yard sale. Th’ Mom’s Club be acceptin’ thin’s fer a major sale, ‘n I can happily give thin’s up t’ a good cause.
I also ‘ave t’ work a little more on me case. I needs t’ prepare a motion fer summary judgement ‘n get th’ brief finished. Well, more started really.
Now I be off t’ splice th’ mainbrace wit’ a few hearties. Fair winds!

One of these things is just icky! It would be the Gerber carrot baby food in the plastic container. Oliver hates it! He spits it out every time I try to feed it to him. Note its fake reddish coloration. It tastes fake and reddish.

Now note the lovely orange carrot color in the glass bowl. That would be a bowl of steamed carrots whipped up into a lovely puree. They are buttery and delicious, with nothing but a little water added. I kept licking the spoon, they tasted so good.
What did Oliver think?

He liked them so much he ate three helpings.

Home.
It only took a little over a year. A year of feeling horribly homesick, irritated with all things Jersey, and reluctant to find anything good here, so far away from Colorado.

Then suddenly, things changed. I stepped off an airplane and inhaled the smell of… home. The sky, huge and blue, dotted with little flocks of clouds, began to look like my sky. The trees, in groves, clusters, copses, and forests, began to look like my trees.

Now I wake up some mornings and step outside to inhale crisp fall air. I wrap myself in a warm sweater and walk my darling girl to school through the park and think “This really isn’t so bad”. When I return home I curl up with my son, and my morning coffee, and I can unwind. I am unpacking boxes. I am settling in. It’s not so bad here.

There are orchards all over the place where you can pick your own fruit, and vineyards ripe with potential wine. I drive past farms on my way to the supermarket, and drive into national forests to go to the park. I can walk into town to our tiny little library, and have lunch (with Gelato) at my neighborhood coffee shop. The fall air smells like moisture and woodsmoke. There are turtles native to the area, just wandering around. (Devon found one in front of the house the other day, but thankfully placed it in a nearby park, instead of adding another pet to the fray.)

Maybe it’s not being in Red Bank, in a dark cave-like house, surrounded by angry yuppies wearing size 2 Prada jeans and pointy-toed heels. Maybe it’s just the passage of time.

Either way, this year is looking up.