Dawn Reader

Dawn Reader
from Open Door Coffee Co.; Hudson, OH; Oct. 26, 2016

Saturday, February 10, 2018

A Milestone; A Taxing Time



1. Just now I noticed on this site that yesterday's post was #2100 for DawnReader. That surely does not seem possible ... what human being has 2100 things to say about anything? I guess I must have, though I would not want to be incarcerated and forced to read them all through again. Isn't there something in the Constitution about "cruel and unusual punishment"? If not, there ought to be.

Anyway, I've had a lot of fun doing this and will keep rolling along, I guess, as long as I can.

I just checked my stats--as is my wont each 100 posts--and here's what I found:

429,758 total hits since I began--so that's ... [pause for arithmetic] ... almost 205 hits/per day. So ... not too bad, though (as I've observed before, my total hits probably equal about five minutes' worth of hits on some celebrity's site. So it goes in My Small World.

Anyway, here's a link to the very first post I did (also my wont on these anniversaries), a post whose title ("I Am Born") I stole from chapter one of Dickens' David Copperfield. Always good to steal from someone talened!
2. And as soon as I finish posting this, it will, indeed, be "taxing time"--time to start assembling and organizing all my tax information for our accountant, with whom I meet on Monday morning.

We have been going to the same accountant for decades now. We like him. He's local; his wife's a teacher (so he knows what our lives are like); he's amiable; he gave us the name of a good clock-repair guy whom we still use when tick-tock goes into sick-tock.

But it's a pain, isn't it, putting all this stuff together? My mom--who did the family taxes when I was growing up--would shut the door to their bedroom/study and stay there for hours. Dad would warn us to stay away from that door (though, after a bit, we needed no warning, believe me), and he would take us out for A&W Root Beer or some other generally rare delight. "Your mother's on the peck," he would sometimes say.

(On the peck--which, I assume, is an angry-bird allusion? Too lazy right now to look it up--but I will!)

Until Mom emerged, looking as if she'd just barely won a bout with the Kraken.

And now--time for me to see if I can survive with the Kraken this year ...*

*spell-check tried to change Kraken to Karen!

The Kraken, winning ...



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