2012.07.13 The Languish Of Intent

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There's a neat pile of pictures of Simon being incredibly cute - but I haven't posted any here yet.

There was a mountain biking adventure at Sandy Ridge with a Stumpjumper - but I haven't conjured any exaggerations or hyperboles for it yet.

A growing repository of tales from work with the Pack o' Dogs with quotes like "flies bouncing off yer taint" sits without hope of explanation.

My sense of impending drama regarding the imminent arrival of our daughter remains unexplored.

Sometimes I wonder what the hell is wrong with my muse. But then I remember that I'm working my ass off, being a dad, being a husband, and have absolutely no reason to complain. A lapse of angst-powered creativity is truly an unworthy thing to lament.