So, that New Year's resolution? About writing every week for this blog? err, not going so well.
I do manage to micro blog just about every day over on twitter. That's the best way to keep current with my life & times, so if you care about that, join Twitter. It's fun! And hardly at all addictive! No, really. I remain hopeful, even confident (without any real basis for that confidence) that more of my loved ones will join me "over there" in my most recent addiction. But for you traditionalists, here's an attempt at a more verbose update:

Things in Pigville are more or less the same these days. We're very broke. but pretty happy, and except for money issues, i'm more or less content with my life.

I've been exercising more since my week in January on Anna Maria Island with my family became a yoga boot camp. I've actually managed to lose a bit of weight, without really trying. That's a good thing.

Jill has been living here at Hearth Hill with us for just about a year now. And finally, after a year of building out her apartment about the studio (known as the Crow's Nest) actually, it's more accurate to say that we've been intending to build out the Crow's Nest, but that intention kept falling down (or off) the priority list, things are starting to happen on that front. Jill has spent the past week moving stuff from the double wide up to the apartment, even though the Crow's Nest is nowhere near finished. Still, all three of us are happy to have a bit more space. And our remaining cat, Rigel, is ecstatic to finally have a house monkey living in a non dog infested space. He's moved into the Crow's Nest with a vengeance & he intends to stay there. Jill seems very happy to have cat company instead of dogs (she manages to say dogs with an elegant but very expressive snort) and Darrell is very excited to reclaim the room Jill was occupying in the house for his leather studio. Now, all we need to do is make lots of money this spring show season so we can finish out the Crow's Nest and pay off some other bills & have some left over for A LAPTOP for me. That's all i ask. Is it so much? (don't answer that)

OK, it's late. I'm tired, but am waiting up for the dryer to shut off. I'm doing laundry so that Darrell & i can have clean clothes for our trip up to Canada to reclaim two of our dogs.

It's like this: Jill went on a bit of a ramble this early spring: January in Seattle, bothering friends out there & February in Ontario, building a yurt with our friends Ceit & Storm. I went up to Canada to reclaim/repatriate Jill & brought Budgth & Ursa with me, cause Ashe (Ceit & Storm's dog) loves Budgth & Ceit is as much of a dog sucker as i am, so she HAD to meet Ursa.

Well, not unexpectedly, Ceit fell in love with Ursa. And she offered to keep Ursa & Budgth in Canada while the human part of our family went on our three week road trip to Florida and then Mississippi (no dogs allowed at the longer show). The gas to go to Canada & back in our little car costs less than it would to keep all 3 of our dogs in our local kennel for 2 nights. And Ursa & Budgth were having a GREAT time playing with Ceit & Ashe & Daemon & annoying Storm. So, the pups have been illegal residents of Canada since late February. D & i are heading north tomorrow to reclaim them, though i think that both Ceit and Ashe will be very, very sorry to see them go. I miss them so much! The only reason i'm not totally crazed from doggie deprivation is because i still have my Tristan dog here with me. Tristan does NOT get along with cats & therefore wasn't welcome at Ceit & Storms house- he went to lock up instead & has had a week of bachelor life afterwards, before D & i could drive up to retrieve the other two pups.
T's loving the single life & every time i remind him that this is a temporary reprieve he looks at me as if to say "but it doesn't have to be. It could be like this all the time" I suspect Ceit and Ashe are paying Tristan off. Not too hard. I'm sure T would regard rocks as an excellent payoff.

And that's really all i have to say about that. Really, that's all i have to say tonight. We've got a long drive tomorrow, so i'm going to bed.

Hope it's enough of an update for folks. I'm gonna root about for some pictures to put up with this post and call it done.
Goodnight & bright blessings to all.
As Garrison Kellior says: Be well and do good work.

& now, a groundhog story, on Groundhog Day even:

this story inspired by bowlofcheese on twitter, who was calling for groundhog recipes for groundhog day.
Let me tell you, friends, how NOT to eat a groundhog:

Many years ago, my Mom had a fantastic dog. His name was Luther, he was a husky shepherd mix with one blue eye and an amazing, social, amiable just all around fantastic dog.
There are many stories about Luther & the lives that he touched. Luther had many great qualities, but at least one not so great one.
Luther was the DeathofGroundhogs. Not in a Terry Pratchett, wearing a cowl, carrying a scythe, talking LIKE THIS sense of the term (though that might be his current job in the afterlife. And he'd be great at it). No, i mean, if Luther ever, ever got the chance, he would kill groundhogs. With malice aforethought. This was a surprising trait, because he was an otherwise peaceful, sweet, loving being. But not when it came to groundhogs.
So, it's like this: My Mom & her partner, Lee, are fitness buffs. They hike and jog & go to the gym. Their idea of a vacation is a three week slog on the AT. (that gene definitely skipped a generation in me- i'm much more of the "whenever i get the urge to exercise, i lie down till it passes" type).
Luther was a great trail and running dog. Except for that groundhog issue.
So, one fine, sunny spring day, Lee went out for a cross country run with Luther. Later that day, they came over to our house to drop Luther off for the weekend (i think they were going out of town for a mini, not dog friendly vacation). As they're leaving, Lee calls over her shoulder "Umm, you might want to watch Luther tonight. He killed and ATE a groundhog this morning."
We're like, "yah, ok, whatever. He's eaten groundhogs before, hasn't he? Go have fun kids, the dog will be fine."
(pause to add in parenthesis that this was back in the day when i was with my first husband, Keith. A fine man, but a Canadian, and Keith was prudish in that deeply white way that many Canadians have perfected. Fart jokes= NOT his idea of funny)
A few hours later, we're sitting about happily, maybe watching a movie or reading books. Luther & our two dogs laying about the living room with us. All is quiet. Perhaps too quiet. Then it starts.
Farts.
Not just any farts.
My eyes are watering at the memory of these farts and it's been 15 years at least.
I've been around freshly skunked dogs that have not smelled this foul.
Lethal, room clearing, eye watering farts.
Farts so bad that the other two dogs sat up, looked at each other in disgust and left the room.
As Keith and i are looking at each other in horror, we finally realize that the source of these foul odors is Luther, the sweet dog who is peacefully sleeping it off on the floor at our feet.
And it suddenly dawns on us:
these terrible emanations are GROUNDHOG FARTS!
And as we're shoving a confused, sleepy & cranky Luther out the door into the back yard, opening windows & looking for stinky candles (this is pre Febreze) Keith looks at me and says "I promise you that I will never, ever, ever eat a groundhog.

The end of my little cautionary tale.
If there is a moral to this story kids, it is this: Stay away from groundhog meat. Or if you must, COOK the damn thing before ingesting it. Cause if you can't resist groundhog sushi, I can promise you this: not even your dog will love you afterwards.