More varieties of half-rotted rubber bands and novelty bottle openers than you can shake a snack bag clip at.
Recently I posted about how I had to be careful celebrating my 600th post milestone because I might have to delete pages with disabled video embeds and fall below the big round number. Shortly after I published I was looking down my list of most viewed posts and realized to my horror that one was my Patreon pitch, and the other was for my podcast, neither of which I worked too hard at to make happen, and neither of which occupied any real estate in my conscious mind until just then. Those posts would have to be deleted, too.
Twenty-eighteen was my cancer year, but as I didn’t get the news on that until April, I honestly can’t use that misadventure for an excuse. The post-holiday season depression, haunted by the death of one of the few close friends I had the previous November, makes more sense. I fought for literal weeks to work up the nerve to make that Patreon pitch, and then I did it, and then I didn’t want to do it anymore.
Truth be told, my heart was never into the Patreon or a podcast. Both require implied obligations and I detest being obligated. The posts had to go. I’m down to 611 published posts now. So it goes.
I cracked 10K on my Jeep on Columbus Day. It’s been a source of amusement to both my adult children, who were small children when I bought the vehicle in 2001, that I am such a stay-at-home stick-in-the-mud that the Jeep has enjoyed such low mileage.
It took 18 years and 27 days but the last digit to the left is populated at last. With new tires installed last month and all our vital fluids good to go, we look forward to another winter crunching through the snow.
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| Pictured in the high flat valley country she lost her 10K virginity in. ‘Til death do us part. |
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| Straight on to Alamosa. |
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