Twenty miles on the bike, fish on the grill for dinner. I'm going to get healthy if it kills me. I've also got the Lair about as ready as it's going to get IF we get any hurricane rain. Now it's time to swap out a front sight on my FAL then spend a bit of time on the deck, reading a book by evening's light while Murphy lays beside me and plots the destruction of all of the cats next door. One of us will be drinking Bushmills.