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Status Update Report

This post is in response to all the queries we have been having about when the site is going to go live. As some of you may know, we were going to do an in-house full-site review yesterday. Well, we did and after about 5 hours or so we have a mixed bag of news:

The bad:We won't be going live this weekend as the wild optimist in me had hoped

The good:The core features needed to get a working version of the site up and running live are mostly in good shape. I am fairly confident that we should have a beta version up and running towards the end of next week.

Overall:This has been a monumental task so far, and we are well aware that this is just the start of the journey. Looking back and seeing how far we have come and the challenges faced, I am quite happy, all things considered:

Fantasy Island

On The Zen of Zoe

The ominous late-summer air along with the crunch of the tell-tale leaves littering the ground signaled it was coming. My chest heaved a heavy sigh knowing that I would not be able to escape its grips. What did I have to offer that could compare with 300 pound men in shoulder pads broadcast in hi-definition? Yes, it is that time of year again, the season of the football widows.

Before marriage, I was familiar with "Monday Night Football." That was a manageable concession I was willing to make. One night a week. Easy. But I've since learned that there are NFL games all day Sunday and on Thursday nights as well. Throw college ball into the mix on Saturdays and the week is completely lost to the testosterone laden frenzy of the gridiron.

Perhaps if I had a favorite team, I would also succumb to the madness and hibernate with my husband in the man-cave until the spring thaw. I married into a Patriots family, so they are my adopted team and I actually do root for them. But its more of an after the fact curiosity cheer - 'hey, did our team win?' I can usually tell the answer by his demeanor. Hugs and kisses means a victory. Grunts and sighs signal a loss.

Over the years I have learned to live through this annual cycle of widowhood. I feel fortunate to catch glimpses of my husband during random minutes when a game was not being played, or being reviewed, or being commented upon with predictions for the next game. But in recent years a new type of football has crept into our lives and stolen away even those rare precious minutes when I saw my husband during the fall and winter months: Fantasy Football. (shudder).

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