So, tell me, dear readers. . .are the archives of this blog still interesting?

I pop up on google search, still get good daily traffic, but yet, I never post. I am what Jake Mohan talks about in his latest blog post about how so many blogs don’t get updated.

It doesn’t help much, I bet, that we bought a car, but seriously? You all get why running down the street to catch the bus with an enlarged spleen, a toxic liver and joints that hurt like a gnarly beast is biting them might make me run out and buy a used car, right?

I drive to the library. I drive to pick up pharmaceuticals, and far too often. I drive to the co-op, to yoga, to everywhere I go.

The Big One even had to give up the biking. His air hunger was getting him down, making him feel like a freak, instead of a teenager.
The Big One and Fiesty Boy on the Scooter

Darn cute, eh?

So, this is my life now. I can’t ride the bus because I’m deeply immune compromised and people hack and don’t cover their mouth. And I’m chemically sensitive and sitting next to someone with Fresh Scent Tide could easily make the whole bus smell like Car Free Mama’s vomit. And my now-teenager has his own electric scooter.

I don’t have much to say these days about living car-free. I commend those who do it. Having a chronic life threatening illness makes me so grateful that I don’t do it anymore. If you miss me, please comment, and I’ll get you the new blog addresses. If you are feeling brave, I’ll even give you the secret code to my bitch blog. That one isn’t nearly as much fun, but I sure tell the truth about raising immune compromised, sick kids.