Today is my 13th anniversary of writing this blog. I did stop this one and write under the name of Imagine (what I'm leaving out) for a few years, but after that one got zapped by a virus, I came back here.
It seems unbelievable that I have had enough to write about for that many years, but since I've been told I talk too much ever since I went to kindergarden, maybe it isn't all that odd. Of course, I don't write nearly as often as I used to.
I'm on my fortieth Keurig coffee pot (or so it seems). Last March we got a new pot, one with a touch pad for instructions. The touch pad began to malfunction and finally it got to the point that it wouldn't turn on, so we returned it and got a new one. Care to take bets on how long this one will last? My daughter has the first one she ever bought, probably 10+ years ago. It still works fine. The family says I drink too much coffee and the pot is reacting to that overuse. I doubt that.
Book club in the old neighborhood is tonight. We read a good book titled "The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry", which sounds silly, but turned out to be meatier than one would imagine. I recommend it.