I'm so sorry, I just can't leave this blog unattended for even a moment, can I? The mischief into which it gets. You can bet there is a stern talking-to in its very near future. Cower, blog, and fear, for I am your blogger.
Sorry everyone, just had to show it a touch of tough love. I'm so grateful for tough love; I'm particularly grateful for being able to avoid it, when possible.
I'm just sitting at the launching point for the giant commercial metal flight machines of bla bla bla they're planes, team, just planes. I'm at the airport and there was no line, despite the forthcoming holiday season. I don't look forward to traveling by air, but I look forward to landing by ground (that's the preference, anyway). I really like driving cars cross-country for days, though. I'll just pretend the pilot's a race car driver who took us off a jump that will last hours and through which most passengers will be remarkably well-composed.
Anyway. I'm thankful for being able to ride inside metal in the sky. It'll make for good story times with the ancients once my time machine is completed.
