Fat Man Caving

I didn’t post at all the week of Christmas. I wrote some, but I had the day after off for the first time in an age and digging in with family was a perfect distraction. I needed it. Next time, I’ll let y’all know that I’m off chasing daisies before I do. Or schedule a movie. Anyhow… We're now fourteen days in and on track... I have never been a big fan of turkey. Thanksgiving being the single exception and even then, I follow a predictable and formulated routine: I take a helping of unoffensive light meat and stew it in with sides and eat until overtaken by sleep, repeat the next day with whatever leftovers are afoot. That's the norm, right? But the actual turkey part of this has always been to me, more of an obligatory custom rather than a matter of exercising personal preference. New adventures in diet aside, my wife and I have been modifying family traditions over the last few years. As the eldest children of our families and a half a dozen kids of our own, we have tried

** The following words are a record of my personal journey and are not intended to replace or circumvent any recommend guidance provided by your health care provider. Before starting any life changing endeavor, such as a diet and/or exercise regimen, please start by having an honest conversation with your doctor. Oh and please don't ask for cave locations. Believe me, if I can find them, so can you.** I had a fairly horrid afternoon. But I'm choosing not to dwell on it. I have to keep moving. I sat last night at my desk writing what would become this post, unable to gather my thoughts beyond a handful of reflections and witticisms from my past that. I have pages of such dribble spread out in drafts scattered across every digital storage medium available to me, like a handful of dry rice stomped into a throw rug. And while some entries are inspiring and relevant, for now they need to stay left in the margin. Maybe some of those ideas might find a home here, but cert