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I’ve realized that I’m a rambler.  I just tend to ramble on and on.  Bear with me while I get my writing legs underneath me.  I’m not a natural writer.  Give me a math problem and that’s when I am the happiest or better yet a sudoku puzzle.  Although, who has time to finish one?  There’s one that’s sitting unfinished in a book I bought months and months ago.  See?  Stream of consciousness.