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Please forgive the epically long pause between posts. Life has gotten in the way, once again, now that my time on the farm is over. And if the attention grabbing headline is news to you, I’m sorry that you’re reading it on my blog! But it’s true: Dave and I are expecting our first son in August. The timing has been fortuitous — especially since I don’t have any mud flat runs in my near future (though I can’t wait to get back to it once our little guy arrives).

Besides the obvious life change, I’ve rejoined the world of publishing for a brief stint back at Boston magazine where I’m filling in for the food editor while she’s out on maternity leave. I’ve been back for a few weeks now so I’m finally feeling comfortable in the new routine — though returning to office life has been a tough adjustment. Let’s just say that nothing compares to showing up to work in a hoodie and a pair of mud boots.

And so, my writing career seems to have picked up a few paces in front of where I left off. Thankfully, I’m now focused fully on food. The only downside is that being pregnant brings with it so many restrictions. Wine, obviously, is off limits but so are my beloved oysters in the raw. Moments like this make me want to cry.

a wine and oyster tasting

Still, I’m grateful that I can put together stories about food and once again, immerse myself back into the restaurant world of Boston, which I adore. This gig is up in May at which point I plan on throwing myself into the freelance world and hunting for work to keep me busy until the baby arrives.

The book, by the way (the book!) is in the copy edit stage, meaning I’ve turned in the first draft, done a thorough edit, and am now waiting for all of the red marks to come back to me one more time. The process has been eye opening — not only for the amount of time, emotional energy, and effort that goes into the writing process but for my own feelings toward it. I can honestly say it’s as emotional as producing an actual child, complete with the insecurity, pride, guilt, and unconditional love. Having put the book aside for a few weeks (well, sort of… it still lives in a pile by my desk where I pick up pages of it to read every day) I can say that I am truly terrified of letting it go. It’s been such an incredible journey and, in some cases, a very tough slog, and every step that I take forward only takes me further away from a life that I loved. My attachment to the entire project grows weaker each day but I can’t imagine it being completely done and behind me. It just seems so… final.

To ease the pain, I’ve thrown myself into this other work, other writing, and into preparing for what will surely be my next big life adventure. I still miss Island Creek every single day but take comfort in the fact that the folks there are still my family and I’m still part of theirs. They’ve even given our unborn baby its very own nickname (a rite of passage)… Poseidon. Looking forward to finding out if this little guy enjoys being on the water as much as I do.

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