A-doin’s a-transpirin’

Hello, out there, hello, hello.

We’ve fallen into a bit of a funk over here at the Ranchero, at least as it pertains to this little blog. We’ve been lulled into a pitter-patter drip-drop of calendar days, and when I think of posting a bit on the blog, I can’t help but feel, very, very tired. This is not to say I don’t want to share the doin’s and the transpirin’s with the world at large, and this also not to say that there aren’t bits and pieces to launch out into the ether, but, you know, at heart I’m a lazy, lazy man. To be honest some of the things that flush out our lives is fairly inside baseball stuff, that might not interest you, and also ought to remain undisclosed for this reason, or that. But we are here, and we love you, and here is your cake. Well, crumbs.

· I’m still without a day job. This has been mostly a boon, and has been a catalyst of sorts, the chemistry of which is in its throes, taking a particular shape, albeit incompletely. I officially am looking for a job, however, the timeline might be more extended than expected. A proper college education is most likely present in the solution.

· The maternal sources from which each Leah and I sprung have had their particular discrete medical scares and or dilemmas. Some are ongoing, some have passed.

· The sweet things that Leah and I are responsible for in some way are all well, and progressing right along. Want pictures? Okay.


Chloë

Rexgoliath

Xavier

· We’re paying our bills, and we have food on the table.

· Mrs. Wonderful is almost done with her semester, at which point I expect her to promptly collapse under her own gravity into a near-singularity and erupt into a nova that will engulf the greater part of the solar system in utter annihiliation, such is the scale of her tiredness. Abdi will be the first to go.

We’ll be around, never fear, we will always love you, no matter what.

– Deadline Wolf Run

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