He Makes an Herb Walnut Stuffing To Die For

Last night I took the kids to the home of a friend who stole my life.

He lived in Southern California with his academic wife, two children, and blog. The wife got a job on the faculty at a university in Connecticut, so they packed up and moved to a beautiful town on the shoreline. They are living in a giant old farm estate house. She does her academic job, he works out of the house, the kids go to daycare.

All of this is within 20 minutes of my family’s home, the one I want to relocate near. I am so jealous jealous jealous of them I want to scream. In fact, I have done that.

It doesn’t help my case that they are funny, interesting, ballsy, and awesome. I can’t even hate them.

My friend has not been blogging much since the relocation. He doesn’t have the same drive for it here, he says. Maybe it’s the area. Maybe it’s the humidity. I can relate. Since I’ve been here for a few weeks I do not have the mojo. I wonder if my brain went on vacation too. I still have those moments when I think “Hey, that could be a good blog post…” but those droplets of ideas evaporate by the time I get to the computer, joining the zillions of other evaporated droplets hanging in the air, and somehow they condense in the ringlets at the nape of my neck.

This humidity is no joke, people. In Hawaii it’s called “Polynesian Paralysis,” and in Hawaii you are usually on vacation, so it’s no problem to succumb and just take a nap. Which you could do on vacation in CT, unless of course, you have your young, needy, nap-resistent children with you. Which is why I’ve been pawning them off on the relatives and hiding in my room.

Perhaps my friend will acclimate to the weather. He’s an east coast native, after all. It would be worth it, because his blog was good when it was good. So was mine. And it will all be good again.