My Etsy Shop!

Oh, Half-Assed Mama community--I am so, so happy to announce the opening (finally!) of my Etsy shop, amymorgan jewelry. Please come visit!

•what happens•

Right now, there are a bunch of 'draft' posts littering the backstage here at HalfAssedMama.com. The titles are interesting. "Englandia." "Long losts." My favorite is simply "the toyotas."

There are a great many things preventing us from blogging. We both just landed ourselves new jobs. In my case, I got a text in England from my boss. One of our co-workers was leaving; would I like to apply for her job? After five weeks, Troy, Penn & I returned home to a swirl of jet-lag-interview-hired!-ready-set-full-time-job-for-mommy on top of (p.s.) a week-long conference that took Troy to Massachussetts. I'm still skinning my knees daily, just trying to keep up, but it's good to be working at a new velocity for That Store we love so well. It will let up, in December. So look for that "Englandia" post, then. Right now it's swim lessons and scraped-together meals and piles of suitcase innards.

For Amy's part, it's packing and working, not sleeping and tidying up loose ends, because her new job means a rather abrupt move, cross-country. Which means, first and foremost, we will be half-assedly blogging from opposite coasts of the US! (Thank you to Bryn Mawr for proffering this upgrade in bloggerly coolness.) Amy has accepted a dream job as a production manager for the Bryn Mawr theater department. She moves to Philadelphia on Sunday. I went to her house a few nights ago in a work-induced stupor, and she sent me away with a giant ceramic ladle, a box of beads, an oversized bag of clothes, and a book of our blog. Of course, all the clothes are still in the bag. The beads have been picked over by a small child. And the book is right here, online, for anyone to comb through. But there's something different about seeing all those early posts in pages. I can open to a random date, as though our posts are part of a larger story. And so they are. Once upon a time, Amy wrote, "Right now, I'm going to go put one small piece in the kiln to see what happens..."

Right now, I'm going to go.  

xox

•industry•

"Luke. I am your--nom nom nom..."
Vader guided me through my first batch of homemade granola. (Oh, fine, it was actually Amy.) Pecans, flax, honey, almond extract--no recipe required.


My DCoB.


Homemade feta. Not much to it, really. Especially when your job is to assist a cheese class instructor, and she gives you curd to drain, chop and salt at home. Easy peesy, lemon squeezy.


Eight thinly-sliced onions...


...for which I donned these swimming goggles. No tears and no pain! A major game-changer. (Take that, Williams-Sonoma.)


The lamb bone, pre-roasting. Made all the difference in the French Onion Soup. I kind of wanted to snuggle with it, when all was said and done.

xox

•failing•

A failure is contingent. You have to attempt, in order to fail, and it is always so good to be attempting something. Failing means doing, trying, working. I live to fail--what better to remind me that all this (grand, sweeping gesture) is earned?

Don't let fear get in your way. Fail, damnit, then get up and fail again.

Nice idea, Harvey. Now, how about you take that pink machine out of the closet and clear off the sewing table you're currently using as a "desk"? That favorite pair of jeans won't repair themselves. xox

Time II

I think I'm beginning to learn that the surest way to slow time down is to stop thinking about it and get busy doing what I love. Time passes. I forget. And then I have to learn all over again.

•"So are we ready?" "No!"•

One morning at work, I found a manila envelope in my inbox. "To Julie and Debbie," it said. It was a series of thank-you notes and drawings from a third grade classroom we visited in November. Since they did such a good job of drawing me (the glasses, the green kerchief, the enthusiasm)... I forgive them for getting my name wrong.

It's pretty hard to find fault with something a kid specifically hand-made for you.



xox
debbie