Diary of a Network Geek

I am a book addict.

“When I get a little money I buy books; and if any is left I buy food and clothes.” –Desiderius Erasmus

Sometimes, I use that quote as my e-mail signature file.  When I first read that quote, it resonated with me at a deep, deep level.  I think I have books in every room of my house.  I love books.  Fiction, non-fiction, it doesn’t matter really.  I have to admit, I haven’t read at least a third of them.  And, probably, of those, I’ll only get around to 80% eventually.  But, that honestly doesn’t bother me.  Some of those books are for reference.  Some, I have for a single page of information or a single photograph or image.

I have a sixty-page wishlist at Amazon.com.  And, that’s after culling out the deadwood and a recent book buying binge.  Mostly, these are books that I’d love to have, one day.  Possibly for one of the many “projects” that float around in my head for years, sometimes never even coming to fruition.  But, sometimes, they’re just there because they’re interesting.  Right now, I have even more in my Amazon shopping cart.  A reward to myself teasing me along in both my writing and my work on my home office.  The carrot that offsets my own inner proverbial stick.

I love the smell of new books.  That pulpy, inky fresh smell of a book that hasn’t been read yet.  I like the weight of them in my hand.  The cool feel of a slick paperback or the firm authority of a weighty hardback.
And, always, their words whisper to me, like a seductive woman taunting me with secrets which only I can discover.  Technical information, style advice, fiction, humor…  They’re all the same to me.  I let my mood dictate my next subject and commit to it for the duration.  Once I reach that point of no return, I follow it through to the end.  Just like a seductive woman.

Hey, it beats jonesing for a cigarette!

Just a few random thoughts to wrap up the year.

I like toast.
I like all kinds of toast. I like diner toast soaked in thinned, anemic butter. I like dry toast. I like toast with honey. And, I like toast with jam. I like toast with peanut butter. I like toast with runny eggs, over easy. I like to soak up the runny yolks after scarfing the eggs.
Today, almost the only thing I ate was toast.
It’s yummy.

I love books.
My obsession for books will most likely bankrupt me.  I love the feel of books in my hand.  The sound of fanning pages on a new book sends a shiver up my spine as I consider with delight what that book holds for me.  The smell of a new book is more evocative for me than almost any other smell in the world.  I think if I suddenly were out of newish books to smell in my house, I would take books that I haven’t read yet to the used book store to sell for cash so I could re-buy those books new again, just for the smell.  I love the feel of new, unread paperback pages as they flip past my fingers, like silky thoughts against my skin.
I would spend my last dime on books rather than food.
Better to die hungry with a new book in my hand than empty-handed and with a full belly.

Tomorrow, I’ll give you something spiritual to start the year.
Y’all have a safe and happy new year.

So, back when I was dating LK, I really got cooking.

No, not that, you dirty-minded naughty people. Cooking on a stove with food. But, since surviving cancer, I’ve been doing real cooking, from scratch, not the regular, heating up canned sauce and pouring it over cheap pasta that I usually do for myself. A couple of weeks ago, I actually made marinara sauce from scratch, and poured it over cheap pasta. Here’s how:

• Pour enough olive oil in a sauce pan to cover the bottom with a little bit to spare
• Add some fresh, crushed garlic (I used about half a full clove)
• Saute that in the hot oil until garlic is golden brown and smells good
• Add fresh chopped tomatoes until about two thirds of the sauce pan is full.
• Spice to taste, but I included more garlic, oregano, rosemary, thyme and pepper. (Actually, most people could do without as much pepper as I used, but, still, I liked it.)
• Simmer for about 20-25 minutes, stirring occasionally
• Add spices for color and taste.

Yeah, that’s it. Simple as all get out, isn’t it? And, yes, I fed it to actual human beings besides myself who enjoyed it, so they claimed, and did not die. I made that again, but added mostly cooked Italian sausage to make a meat sauce. Oh… Well, let’s just say my “lose weight” resolution took a little beating.

Then, there was the salad dressing I made with one cup of olive oil, one cup of apple cider vinegar and two table spoons of parsley. And some sugar and some other spices which I would tell you, if I could remember what I used. As salad dressing, it was okay. But, as something to dip bread into while we waited for the pasta to cook? Oh, I don’t think I exagerate when I say it was heavenly. Something about the tang of that apple cider vinegar just really, really went well with the fresh Italian bread.
A similar concoction for cold pasta salad didn’t do quite as well. Still, it wasn’t entirely a failure, so, I might try that again.

A couple of weeks after she broke up with me, I made “Mystery Whitefish” Almondine ala Leftovers. I had two small fillets of an unknown variety in my fridge that had to get used before they go nasty, so I grabbed my copy of Cooking for 1 or 2 and started to improvise. You see, I almost never have the ingredients I need on hand when I start cooking, so, I just come close and muddle through. I often find it surprising what I find when I do that.
This time, I substituited a failed batch of cornbread for bread crumbs and found something new and wonderful. Here’s what I did:

• Toss your fillets into a bit of milk. Just enough to cover them a bit.
• In another pan or plate, toss the cornbread crumbs and mix in a bit of pepper and salt. I used Lowry’s seasoned pepper, but whatever works for you.
• Pop a medium fry pan onto the stove and, when it gets hot enough, melt a bit of butter in it.
• Flop the fillets from the milk into the seasoned cornbread. Coat both sides well and drop them into the pan.
• Cook until the fish is flaky and tender then flip the fillets onto a warm plate.
• Throw some sliced or slivered almonds into the pan and saute until, what else, golden brown. I’d guess about a teaspoon or so per serving.
• Serve over brown rice

I have to say, this was surprisingly delicious. Granted, there’s no one to verify the delectibility of this particular culinary experiment, but Hilda thought the plate tasted quite nice after I was done.

I tried this with chicken, instead of fish, and cashews, instead of almonds, and, while I have no idea at all what to call it, the result was, well, to put it mildly, heavenly.

I’m of two minds on these.

When I was in Boy Scouts I earned Wildernes Survival Merit Badge. One of my Merit Badge Councellors at the time mocked survival kits saying that it seemed to him when he most needed such a thing, it would be no where to be found. So, mostly, I learned to make do with what I carried in my pockets. I think that was about when I developed the habit of always carrying a pocket knife and a lighter, come to think of it.

In any case, with hurricane season growing ever longer, and all sorts of terrible disasters looming on the horizon, according to the television press, I suppose it’s not a bad idea to have something a little more substantial around. Cetainly, I’m not the first blogger to talk about survival kits, nor will I be the last. And, I have to admit, I have other reasons for thinking about this. Not only am I a bit of a survival nut from way back, but I’ve been reading a book called The World Without Us that’s set me to thinking about this sort of thing.
Earlier this year, Wired Magazine reviewed several emergency survival kits, and after a lot of searching, I managed to find a link to it. (Scroll down, past the speaker reviews to the survival kits.) More recently, however, Wired ran an article on making your own kit from scratch and building the “smarter emergency kit“. That article makes a great supplement to the suggestions made at the Department of Homeland Security sponsored site, Ready.gov. They’ve got a whole list of emergency preparedness documents, in PDF format, including a list of suggested emergency supplies. Incidentally, that was what Wired Magazine rated as the best emergency survival kit, the one you made yourself following the Ready.gov guidelines. Keep in mind, though, the advice my Merit Badge Councellor gave in his smarmy way… Make the kit portable and keep it near you in case of emergency. (If you want to include food in your kit, you could do worse than using stuff from Mountain House. But, make sure to rotate it out every couple of years!)
Also, for you fellow dog owners, you might make a kit for your best friend, too. Again, from the Wired blogs, there are pre-made dog emergency kits. But, mainly, I just keep extra dog food on hand and allow additional drinking water.
Another idea for readers who are, like me, very digital in nature, having a spare laptop in an emergency “bug out” laptop kit isn’t a bad idea at all. In fact, now that I’ve got a spare laptop, and a bit of time, I may just make that myself!

(Don’t forget to check out the pictures in the last post and vote!)

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced."
   --James Baldwin

My sister and nephew were here this weekend.

My sister and her son should be home by now. Their flight for Chicago left this afternoon and everything was on time. They got in Thursday and stayed with me and Hilda while they were here. It was sort of nice having visitors, even relatives. I thought I’d be glad to see them go, so I could get my house back, but, honestly, until they left, I had no idea how much I missed having people around. I think Hilda misses having a younger person around to shower her with attention, too.
In any case, Friday we went to the Downtown Aquarium. It was okay, but, well, I think it was geared more toward small kids and families. There weren’t a lot of exhibits and there was a fair amount of “touristy” stuff. Still, the exhibits there were good. They were clean, the animals were healthy and active, and pretty much everything worked. Besides, in spite of feeling relatively good and strong, I’m still recovering from having cancer and the treatment, so a little less to do on that first day was probably for the best.

Saturday we just hung around the house. Though, we did run out to the office to look for a cable for their camera and to try a Vietnamese noodle shop. The night before, we hit my new favorite Thai restaurant, which was fairly brave of them, considering how much Asian food they get in their small, rural hometown.
Saturday night we went to church, where they got to meet a bunch of my friends. I hope it wasn’t too overwhelming for them. Either my family or my friends! After church, I was forced to choose the restaurant, so we all went out for Mexican. Also, not an option they normally get. At least, not authentic Mexican.

Sunday, it was off to the Houston Zoo. Again, we got there early and spent quite a bit of time, which was nice, but tiring on these old bones. I haven’t been to the zoo in ages, so I had a good time. And, because the weather was a bit dicey, the crowds were light. Luckily, the weather held and we had a good time. We left a bit early for dinner, but we stopped by Goode Company and got some “to go”. It was great, even warmed up in the microwave. And, I got to show them a great taste of Houston to boot.

Since I know you all have been wondering what I look like without hair, or with my hair growing back, I got my nephew to take a couple of pictures. I’ve got them here, below, so you can see them. I’m also asking you all to vote on them, so I know which one to use to update my Match.com profile with my new “look”.

This is sort of mugshot looking to me, and a little out of focus, but it’s a simple shot. I hope I don’t look too scary with such short hair! It does kind of look like an ID photo, though, doesn’t it? I don’t know, I guess the full on portrait is always a kind of classic.

This is an attempt at a “candid” shot. Naturally, I’m sitting in front of a laptop. What else would a professional computer geek and hopeful author be doing? Right? And, maybe that’s also its weakest point. It shows me in my natural environment just a little too much.

And here is a close-up version of that last shot. I don’t know… Do I look too serious? Ha, if you know me in RealLife, you’d know that I’m almost never serious! Ah, well, it is a pretty good picture, I think. Still, do you think it makes me look too grim? Like I’d be no fun on a date? I only get one chance at a first impression you know!

And, finally, a shot from the other side. And a little smile, which I think is better. Oh, these shots show off my new glasses, too! (So, tell me, you totally want to rub my short hair to see how it feels, don’t you?)
Okay, so, make sure to vote for you favorite picture!

So, I’m in MD Anderson.

Turns out old Cletus was a bit more aggressive than we first realized.
Tuesday, I went to see my oncologist and she was a little concerned about how much Cletus was restricting my breathing, so she had me admitted on an emergency basis Tuesday night. Thankfully, I have an amazing array of friends who all jumpped in and started taking care of everything for me right away. So, my darling Hilda is being taken care of, and, in fact is probably being spoiled by someone who’s even more codependant with my dog than I am. I actually think she went and bought McDonald’s fries just because Hilda likes them.
Tomorrow, and most likely Saturday, I’ll have people all up in my house cleaning it and stocking it with food for my parents who will be arriving Tuesday evening. Someone else has already made arrangements to pick them up from the airport and help them find their way around Houston. At least, as far as getting to the medical center and back home. Naturally, they’ll be staying at my house. All that room does come in handy.

Now, I suppose you’re wondering about what kind of cancer I have and what my treatment will be. Okay, I have diffuse large B cell lymphoma, which, in case you’re wondering, is not good. On the menu of cancers, this is not one a wise person would pick. What’s more, it’s an aggresive case. On a scale of 1 to 100, Cletus rates a 90. Not the best way to be an overachiever, is it?
The concern is, however, how fast and far it’s spread. That’s the problem with lymphoma like Cletus, he tends to sleep around and spred his problems all over, real quick. So, after having had several different kinds of scans in the past two days, tomorrow, I’ll have a few more and then follow that with a couple of bone marrow biopsies, which will most likely be a pain the ass, literally. They seem to want to take samples out of my hips, by way of holes in my backside. So, we’ll see how that goes.  I haven’t started chemotherapy yet, either, but I should be starting that soon, too.  I expect that it will be as aggressive as Cletus.  Not sure if I’ll lose my hair or not, but I do rather expect this to knock me on my ass for a bit.

But, all that being said, I don’t expect to die.  I think some people who have been following this the past couple weeks might be afraid that I’m going to, but I’m not.  I don’t know quite what God has in mind for me, but I really don’t think He’s brought me through all the crap of the last five years to kill me now.  I just don’t think it’s part of His plan to kill me at 38 with so much left to do.
Rather, I think I’m meant to survive this, too, so that someone I haven’t even met yet, who will need an extra helping of hope that I’ll be able to provide after I’m well.  I feel this deep in my heart and bones.  I know that my life’s purpose has not quite been fullfilled yet, and that is why I will, why I must, make it through all this.  I don’t think it will be pleasant and I’m sure parts of it will hurt, but I don’t plan on dying any time soon.

So, keep up your prayers for me, and keep on living your lives.  I’ll be well soon and I’ll do my best to keep you all updated via the blog.
Thank you for your support.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"I'm always amazed that people take what I say seriously. I don't even take what I am seriously."
   --David Bowie

Well, I went to the doctor for my results today.

According to the doctor, I have an “unidentified mass” in my right lung, along with fluid and some excess fluid around my heart. Obviously, the concern here is cancer. I used to smoke, though not much, and I have a family history of cancer. On the other hand, it could just be an adenopathy as a result of having such a bad infection for so long. That’s sort of what I’m hoping for, but we’ve got a ways to go before figuring it out.
Friday morning at 9:45am, I have an appointment with a pulmonary specialist to see about getting a biopsy done. My doctor talked to MD Anderson, but going through them could take four to six weeks to get as far as a biopsy. That’s why my doctor went ahead and referred me to the specialist. My timeline should be compressed from many weeks to one or two. Not sure about what this proceedure will entail, but I know they’ll knock me out, so I’ll most likely have to arrange for someone to take me to the proceedure and take me home again. Luckily, I have legions of friends who have already volunteered.

I really, truly had no idea how many people cared about me. I’ve gotten several calls this afternoon already and, in spite of my protestations, I have friends coming over with food tonight. My minister is going to call later, as are several friends I’ve been in touch with via e-mail. I hope it will put my mother at ease to know that so many people are ready to take care of her little boy, so far away from home.

I don’t think I mentioned last night when I wrote that entry, but C. offered to help me with my dog and so on if I had to go into the hospital when we thought I might need to get the lung drained, though she allowed that I had plenty of friends that would be more than willing to help. I was talking to her on the phone, which is a good thing because I’m sure my jaw was hanging slack. I’m not quite sure what’s up with her, but she seems caught between wanting to have a friendly relationship with me and… Well, and keeping some kind of distance. I’m not sure if it’s because of the prohibition on her dating someone from work, or something else, but I definately feel the distance that she’s trying to maintain.  But, don’t judge her too harshly.  Her heart really is in the right place, even if she has some issues right now.  God knows, I’ve been through plenty of that kind of nonsense myself.

So, I guess I’ll update you all again after I know more from the pulmonary specialist.  If you’re the praying kind, now’s a good time to add me to your list.

Trouble in mind, I’m blue
But I won’t be blue always,
‘Cause the sun’s gonna shine
In my backdoor some day.

–Trouble in Mind written by Richard Jones and sung by Nina Simone

So, Saturday, I had lunch with my minister.
Now, when he reads this, I have no doubt that he’ll balk at the title of this post, but, for me, it’s no less true. In fact, that was half the reason I wanted to get together with him.

He’d been helping rehearse a wedding, apparently without the benefit of food, because at two o’clock when I came to get him, he asked if we could get lunch instead of coffee. Naturally, that was fine with me, even though I’d eaten. So, we jumped into the Black Beast, as I often refer to my retired police car, and headed out. I think Matt was a little surprised to find Nina Simone in the CD player instead of Ramstein, but, hey, I like to keep my spiritual advisor/fashion consultant on his toes, you know? Anyway, we made a bit of small talk about health and weather and getting older as we zipped past Six Flags over Jesus (aka Second Baptist) to Escalante’s. Matt’s been working on his PhD. in Lubbock and, apparently, they don’t have any good Mexican food there, so he was craving. I just had ice tea, but they were slow and we had enough to justify taking up the table.

By the time we’d walked through the door, Matt knew I wanted to talk about the two most confusing, vexing, baffling subjects known to man: God and women.
God, it turns out, is the less vexing of the two. As I explained to Matt, I still have a hard time with certain things about religion. Belief in a Supreme Being isn’t so hard. Belief that He cares about so insignificant a life as mine, well, that’s a bit of a stretch sometimes. So, too, that whole salvation concept is a little beyond me sometimes, too.
But, he explained it in a way that, somehow, I’d never considered before.
“What if a friend came to you with a problem? A bad habit he’d tried to break, but had given into. What would you tell him?”
“Well, I guess I’d ask him what he learned. I wouldn’t be focused so much on the bad habit, but the behavior and thoughts that led up to the backsliding. I mean, the point isn’t to be perfect, but to learn from the mistake and move on.”
“Well, don’t you think that an all-powerful, all-knowing supreme being is at least as compassionate as you are?”
“Oh…” Yeah, somehow, I lost sight of that whole idea. That God, as powerful and huge as He is, still cares about me at least as much as I care about people who come to me with problems. See? Like I said, Matt may not be comfortable with the label, but Holy Man fits.

Now, as for the women end of things…
Well, I’ve tried every other approach to women that I can think of, so asking a minister seemed like a novel idea. Besides, Matt’s happily married with two kids and a third on the way. I told him about the subject of my posts last week. I gave him all the detail I leave out of this blog. How I made myself vulnerable to her. How I told her what I felt and thought. How I shared my writing with her. The kind of writing I rarely share with anyone, because I never think it’s good enough. I told him how she rarely returns phone calls or e-mails. I told him how I’d made the decision to pull back, for my own safety, but still called to let her know why I was doing that, because I’d always hated seeing someone turn cold to me with no explanation and wondered why. I told him how all my efforts seem to be met with a confusing mix of appreciation and disdain.
Matt summed it up when he made two simple gestures. With one hand, waving me closer. With the other, holding it up to say “stop”. “Come closer, no, wait, go away.”
And, after listening to the whole thing. Hearing my frustration and my embarrassment and my self-directed anger, he said something to me that shocked me down to my bones.
“She’s not worthy of you.”
I hate to admit it, but that’s a fairly alien concept to me. Me not being worthy of someone else, that I get. But, the idea that perhaps there was someone not worthy of my honesty and openness… Well, it certainly made me think. So did the last thing he said to me about all that.
“Guard your heart.”
And, that I got. The trick, as I told Matt, is figuring out the right balance between guarding myself from harm and being transparent enough to be real. I’ve struggled for a long time to rediscover my authentic self and, mostly, I like who I’ve found. And, damn it, Matt’s right, that should be more than enough for anyone who’s paying attention. How many people would take the risk to be honest enough to share their feelings, even after being fairly certain that things weren’t going well at all, just because it’s the right thing to do.

The other thing that surprised me a bit was when Matt asked me if I’d prayed about it. I grew up with the idea that one never asked God for anything for one’s self. That was the height of selfishness and practically heresy. But, he reminded me of Scripture, which I can’t remember now, where Christ told someone to express their wants to God. He told me it was not only okay to tell God I was lonely for that special relationship, but that God wanted me to bring that to Him. God wanted to hear my heart’s deepest longing. Yes, he already knows it, but God wants to hear it from my own heart.
And, I’ll be honest, I am lonely. It’s not that I lack for friends or family or love at all, but it’s different. Yes, if I want to get out to a movie or dinner or just not be alone, I can find someone to be with easily enough. Male or female. But, I’m lonely in a different way. There’s something different about that tender, intimate relationship with a member of the opposite sex that goes beyond simple friendship. I feel like I know so little of that sort of relationship that I can hardly hold a picture of it in my mind, much less describe it. But, this much I do know, it’s a kind of intimacy that goes deeper than anything else. It is, I think, what drives us all, in one way or another. The search for it gets me up in the morning and exhausts me during the day. If I were to remember my dreams at night, I’m sure it would be all I dream.
So, I started praying about that longing to God. I don’t pretend to know what the results will be, but when my holy man instructs me, this student listens.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
You don't have to be a genius to succeed. You just have to be the cleverest monkey in the cage.

So, you may have noticed that I haven’t posted anything since before Christmas.

Well, there’s a reason. I had actually planned to post something Christmas Day, but, well, I sort of lost heart. You see, my uncle, my father’s older brother, past away Christmas Eve. I got the call first thing Monday, Christmas Morning. It sort of put a damper on all the other stuff going on. I’ll be flying home tomorrow, thanks to very generous bereavement rates, for the funeral. The vet was all booked up, but I got a friend to let the dog out and make sure she’s got food and water, not that I expect her to really eat while I’m away. She’s funny like that.

It’s depressing, of course, to go to funerals. Though, mainly, funerals don’t bother me. I’m much more put off by mourners. I’m a little socially awkward to begin with and nothing’s quite so awkward as either trying to comfort someone who’s just lost their spouse or parent. At least, to me.
You see, I grew up with the idea of death. We talked about it at the dinner table. My grandmother, my father’s mother, lived with us from the time I can remember until she died, which was when I was still in college. She was quite comfortable talking about funeral arrangements for herself and all the related details. My father was one of the people with the AMA who coordinated the case work that went into the now famous On Death and Dying by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. It’s not talked about much these days, but most of her raw data came from hospital chaplains and, apparently, that was something my father was involved with back then. One of my earliest memories is being told not to hang on the edge of the casket when I was trying to see my Great-Great-Grandpa Grosh, who died at the age of 99, when I was just a little, little kid. So, death in and of itself doesn’t bother me much at all. It’s just a part of life.
But, all the other stuff that goes along with death gets to me.

And, I have to admit, it occurred to me that, one day, perhaps soon, I’d be making a similar trip to bury one or both of my parents. That idea did not sit well with me at all. Apparently, even with all the childhood hours spent in and around funeral parlors and hospitals, I had managed to repress the idea that they’d be suffling off this mortal coil eventually.  This, though, brought it all home.  And, it makes my father the eldest living Hoffman.

In any case, that’s where I’ll be Friday and through New Year’s Eve.  Well, actually, I’ll be flying back into Houston New Year’s Eve, but I’m quite sure I won’t be celebrating at all.  Then, after things settle down a bit, I’ll get in touch with the girl from Match.com with whom I broke a date Tuesday because, frankly, with all this, I wasn’t going to be very good company.  She was sweet, though, and I look forward to meeting her in person, eventually.  Since she was born in China, I suspect I’ll be getting to know some new haunts with her, especially in our Chinatown.  Hey, I didn’t even know that Houston had a Chinatown!

Oh, and another bit of good news: The groom with cold feet, J., who will be watching my dog, has been talking to L., his once and future fiance.  And, she’s already taken the ring back.  They’re going slower this time, though, which I think is probably a good thing for both of them.  Still, I’m very happy that these two are back together.  Crazy as they both might be sometimes, they’re still perfect for each other.

Well, I’ll queue a Friday Fun Link post, but I won’t be active on-line until I get back Sunday night.  Enjoy the weekend.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"It is not the going out of port, but the coming in that determines the success of a voyage."
   --Henry Ward Beecher

I’ve lost count of how many posts I’ve started but not finished.

Just now, I was writing about the ridiculous situation of being more or less trapped in an office Friday while two utterly clueless guys extoled the virtues of mail order brides and prostitution under the guise of “advice about women”.  The sheer stupidity of their argument and the surreality of the entire, one-sided conversation struck me as so bizarre that it was almost funny, at the time, but when I tried to write it, the whole thing just seemed, well, sad.

I’m not sure what’s going on with me this week, but everything seems to feel that way.  Maybe it’s just the severe lack of cash-flow that’s got me down, or the gray weather, but everything seems sort of bland today.  No food seems to sound appealing to my tastebuds, nothing on television seems interesting enough to really watch, none of the books I have in my queue are all that compelling, and nothing that comes to mind to write seems worth the effort.  Even this almost seems like a waste of time.

I have dozens of posts that are either half-done or done, but never seem right to post, in my blog queue.  I have some that are old and, though they were half-decent writing at the time, are so far detached from where I am today, that they don’t seem right to post without heavy editing.  But, that editing never seems quite right, either.  I suppose, I should just delete them all, but, for some reason, that’s hard to do.

I don’t know what’s up, but if I post a little less frequently this week, or month, that’s what’s going on, and why.