Our library offers a digital library system where we can select books and they are delivered to our home. I Love that service and when I'm done, I check in online for pickup. They charge a monthly fee of 10.00 which if I was driving to and from would be that and more.
They also offer audio books, digital books and online classes.
I agree they're a valuable asset to every community. I donate a lot of my hardbound books to the library each year rather than hanging on to them.
I'm stubbornly staying in my flannel nighties, no ac and the joy of a circular fan's breeze teasing my legs for November. So far the weather is cooperating.
When my kids were small I drank it like water, so much I scared people around me, now about two a day, in the morning, and one before bed, more so in the winter than summer.
I love coffee too and I shoukd not drink and haven't fir a long time..even got rude of coffee pot. Thus past week bought a small pot and half and half coffee half the caffeine and have been having one cup a day since I got home. I'm enjoying it again. Don't feel much different. Hope your day is good.
I love that Hoffman quote! As far as continued imbibing of that delicious beverage is concerned - you go, girl (but at a level unlikely to prematurely remove your valued presence from our own).
I think we need to also remember that strokes and Alzheimer's already change people's personalities, often for much, much worse.
I think it's right to be wary, but if we look outside of "Bionic Man intelligence," there could be solid use cases for reestablishing broken connections and restoring quality of life.
WakeUpAndLive~NOV Word Monger Yes, true. Also limbs and other parts, too, but the brain is the command center. Frankly, I wouldn't mind being much smarter, but I don't want anyone making decisions for me from the outside.
Prompt:
“it is the end of July and the idle breeze of gentle childhood befogs my mind once more"....
Let the beginning of this poem inspire your entry today.
-------------
July
July is here again,
stirring ancient echoes
warm on this old
wrinkled skin
and my smile spills
and memory hums
of sunburned hands
sticky with melting treats
when sprinklers hissed
and butterflies danced
as if a fleeting dream
brought them near
in summer's glow
but such flashbacks I hide
with tears I never show.
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