Friday off

I slept in until alike 14:00 or something. Nat got lunch. Elle and I are watching Reba. There is an episode on where Reba is attempting to flip a property to make money. It makes my skin crawl because so many real estate people got bitten in the butt by attempting to flip properties. It extends to me thinking about Reba and her hard life. If she, the character, is still a real estate person she is in trouble. The whole pool of real estate folks as thinned a bit since the housing issues this past spring. I wonder if the show is still going. I wonder if Reba, the character, is still a real estate broker/sell/agent or whatever they are called.?

It is the same episode where the car has an OnStar type service. It is like Hal on 2001. The disembodied voice gets mad at Brock, calling him Dave, locks him in the car and starts honking the horn. This is far too funny. It covers some fears I have with that system. I don't like someone in India or China having the ability to shut down that many cars in the U. S..

Elle has attempted to climb in the window and cross country ski using the cat scratching boxes. She has a room full of toys and refuses to play with them. It must be the quest for new experiences. I remember when I was a kid, it wasn't the number of toys, it was the constant inflow of new information and new things to play with. I'm not sure what stuck around. I've never thought about it.I used to use sticks and stones for toys. I remember my father threatening to never buy me another toy. He was just going to wrap up sticks and put them under the tree from then on.

Last night there were people popping firecrackers in the field adjacent to our house. We called the cops and now there are signs all over the fireworks stand that say you can't pop firecrackers within 300 feet of the big yellow box. I believe that includes our next door neighbors driveway. How cool. It just might be a more relaxing Independence day. This evening we plan on calling the police and let them decide if who is and is not in the 300 ft radios.

Yes, yes, we have officially become old farts.