Catch Me If You Can

I have been wretchedly negligent in creating any sort of content for Interregnum as of late, even by my own lax standards, which on the whole is a most excellent sign:  it means that I am busy living my life instead of writing about it, and that it is neither sufficiently woe-ridden nor laden with burdensome truths so as to compel me to do so.  Joy, balance, contentment…  these are wonderful things to live, but they make for crappy journal entries.  (Or so I have remarked, on more than one occasion.  TenFootBoy seems determined to prove me wrong, though, so perhaps I had best qualify the statement with the phrase “in my own case”.)

Lest I fall totally off the wagon, however, a brief catch-up is perhaps in order:
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