So, okay, yes.

It's 2013. Which is quite a bit after 2008.

I'm hoping fervently that no one still has me in their RSS feed, because it would be nice to start this thing fresh, which I suppose I could do by starting a different blog on a different platform and pretending that all this never happened, but I'm not going to do that, because I'm too much of a hoarder by nature and I can't bear the idea of giving up all these little gems of wisdom that I've placed here so lovingly and then abandoned to the elements.

Some things are different and some things are the same, and all shall be revealed in time.


Seriously, though, I did strongly consider beginning again elsewhere, if for no other reason than that privacy is a bit more of an issue to me than it used to be. I have online identities that are quite different from my daily life and never the twain shall meet and all that, and I'd like to be able to talk a little about that without the people that I know in real life reading all my fanfiction. I hope that sounded funny and not a little shrill like it did in my head.

Really, that's the issue: what I can talk about on this blog. When I set this thing up in 2006, I knew I wanted a transparent identity, that I wasn't going to have the patience for remembering to refer to myself by some other name, and then creating the identities of "Long Suffering Spouse" and "Best Friend Part One: Maine Edition" etc. It just seemed too cumbersome. People on my blog have always been named by their real names and often pictured in compromising positions. No. Well. Okay.

And it isn't that that hasn't caused me an enormous amount of grief heretofore. Three times I wrote things on this blog that had serious real life consequences. One post caused hurt feelings I didn't intend. One caused a local business owner to tell my husband to "put a muzzle on your wife." One ended a friendship forever. Go ahead, try to find that post. You won't--because sometimes (I learned the hard way) just documenting your life will create problems. I've never ever been rude or mean to anyone here; I would never do that in a public space. Ever. And yet.

And this is very much a public space. It's one of my other laments about having a transparent identity blog. There are things I'll never be able to write about here, things that are far too personal or hurtful, and things that are simply not my story to tell when the identity of the people involved could be deduced by knowing who I am. But sometimes it would be nice to write about those things. I see dead spaces in this blog (ha ha! No! I mean when it was active) in which huge things were going on that I couldn't share. And that's a bit weird when you've grown close enough to your readers to tell them all about your nose whistles and deepest fears, that suddenly you run up against these walls. I wish I didn't have to have that.

Also, my parents were reading. And that shouldn't make a difference. I'm 35 years old. But suddenly I felt strange about swearing with abandon or telling off color jokes. I'm going to try not to let that bother me this time (no promises). But Mom, if you're reading this, please don't tell me that you are.

So, some basics, now that we're catching up:
I'm still teaching, though a much younger age group.
Gert the wonder-Beagle died last year at the ripe old age of 19. She had and beat cancer in the dead years of this blog, and she was amazing right up to the end. I still miss her.
We now have Ella the wonder-Beagle. She is three and a holy terror and I adore her with every single cell of me.
Gonzo is 15 now and it's hard to watch him get old. But he is just as ornery as ever.
We bought a lovely old house that I'm sure I'll talk about way too much.
I'm still constantly embarrassing myself in every available way.
I have learned to make a kookaburra noise.
That is all.