Where the hell have you been?

Good question. Several places since April of 2018 when I discussed bread from the bakery and my thriving Red Bud. It was a moment in time for that Red Bud, about to enter its second decade on Stowe Lane; never once threatened by the roving maniacs otherwise known as landscapers.

How, was I to know there was another moment in time waiting just around the corner in July? That’s when the inimitable Rere went by Daddy.  She’d been threatening to go for several years but phoenix that she was she defied the odds until she didn’t. It was an exhausting year and no words would come. Most of that story was told through loving conversations with her beloved Toti Nonna on Instagram which allowed everyone an overwhelming level of comfort. There was so much to say about that moment and yet it’s all been said leaving everyone with no regrets and an exhale.

When I started the blog in 2009, let me say that again…2009, it was a moment in time for me. I was newly divorced and starting a fresh life on Stowe Lane.  I had much to say, mostly because previous to that year I hadn’t said much at all. And you better believe I took advantage of my voice here on the blog, from indignant rants to the little things to family to elder beauty and food and whatever stuck in my craw.

Then something shifted, I began writing more on Instagram following prompts and current trends and the ordinary.  #lifeonstowelane would later become a beloved hashtag on IG and I could write and post to my heart’s content, there was no need to blog.  Blogging had gone out of style, lost its relevance, or something like laziness set in and I had no patience to expand my thoughts.

Over the last two and a half years I’ve been busy transitioning into retirement. I’ll spare the gory details but it’s been an adventure complete with disappointments, meetings, meetings, more meetings, knock down drag outs, negotiations and a very happy ending. There was the trip of a lifetime to Italy’s Tuscan Women Cook and oh yeah a worldwide pandemic that isn’t quite through with us yet. So, again, there I was posting and writing on Instagram. But…as I read over some of it recently, it was pretty good. Sometimes thoughtful, sometimes irreverent, sometimes funny as hell #conversationswithtoti, sometimes helpful. And the food, the cooking, and all the ideas swirling around that wanted very much to become a book…

So here I am…again. With much to say in a place where it can be savored and cataloged and preserved because, yep, legacy albeit ordinary.  This time around it will probably be much ado about retirement, living blessedly alone, cooking, creating art, being Italianish and God knows what else in the hopes that the book will somehow come to fruition.  I’m thinking a monthly wrap up of IG posts and additional goodies. I’m thinking snarky rants and emotion and preventing people from eating cold cereal for dinner.  You know mindful living in the not so woo woo way we’ve all come to know…and love…yeah we still love it.

I hope you’ll stay tuned and tell your friends, see you in March. slc