July 8th

I started the day by taking the hardware off the bedroom doors, masking up and throwing paint around.  Then, because you only live once, I cut the grass.  I was just trying to figure out a stupid new game on my tablet when Shean texted me to say he was free at the airport, so I drove over so we could chat about my goal to get a US Sport Pilot license.  We went up in the Flightstar, but it was stupidly bumpy, meaning I couldn't maintain height in level flight, let alone in turns around a point and S turns.  We gave up shortly after that, and I then got to land in a 7mph crosswind at 90 degrees to the runway.  Still, any landing you can walk away from, right?

I got home and the house was quiet.  No sign of Tilly, or Rolie Polie Olie, the Roomba.  Suspiciously, the bedroom door was shut.  That was a little troubling, as all the hardware was in the bedroom, so I had to take the stuff off another door to get in there, and let Tilly out.  She was very grateful.  Olie had tangled itself up in the bath mat and turned itself off.