Touchdown, Blogosphere.

I suppose you don't touch down on the blogosphere, but rather enter into orbit within or around it. However, this precludes exclaiming "touchdown!" like an astronaut/football player, and is much less fun.

Disclaimer: I do not have any specific plans on how often I'm going to write. (I love when I write "I" after a colon 'cause I'm never sure if I'm supposed to capitalize. With "I," I'm right either way.)

Merambling seems like a good word for meandering and rambling, which are two things I love. If you have an idea for a title, I'd like to hear it.

I chose the most pretentious "template" available.

There is a little shop just 100 feet from my house that sells things like lentils, bread, eggs, boxed pasta, canned milk, sponges... about 15 or so standard items. Of course they also sell rum and beer. All these items are delivered by trucks that pass through the various villages daily, weekly, or monthly, depending on the item. So I hang out there some times. It is run by a multigenerational family of 11... I may be missing someone... Cousins, grandparents and grandchildren all living under the same roof, no one over the age of 55. I have befriended all but the teenage daughter who "doesn't deal with white people."

"Bend Down for the Wood" is a song lyric from the popular band Triple Kay. Yes, three K's, like the nefarious American ethnic organization.

I'm sitting down outside the shop with Jen (grandmother, matriarch) and Carine (29 year old daughter of Jen, mother two) as we intermittently converse between texts they are sending and receiving to and from I don't know who. Ray, 6 years old, newly able to speak, starts walking up from the house holding the cat in his arms. "Ray, go home. Not to come up here," says Carine, his 29 year old sister, looking for some relaxation after a day's work. "If you come there I'll make you bend down for the wood for the cat," says Ray defiantly, as he turns and saunters home.