Come on ahead, all who haven't lost their nerve! I have outpatient surgery early tomorrow morning, but it's just a port placement and I'm told the procedure is "well-tolerated". (My impression, so far: "Well-tolerated" means that geyser-like bleeding from the ears and arse generally stops on its own within 8 hours.)
I should be on-hand when those arriving from the airport arrive from the airport; if not, I'll leave lights on and doors
unlocked.
The animal in the house is named Buddy. He thinks he's a dog.
An alternate plan: Buddy's eyes are bigger than his stomach, but if it begins to look like he might get both of you, the fleeter of foot might try the Marquis's place (C). Around this time of day, you might even catch him in his driveway, returning home from work.
Rex: Your later arrival will surely be foolproof.
Notes: Stoner's house still has no ISP, sorry. This is likely the last I'll see the Clock before I see you, so call me when things come up.
Our peak colors have come and gone and the daily high has dropped about twenty degrees from last week, into the mid-fifties.
Good travel to all.
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