We were supposed to wake up early, but Arthur didn't stir until after 9AM. We must have worn him out yesterday in New York. Some time just before 9, I stumbled out of the "Hannah Montana Memorial Bedroom" and followed the sounds of 80's rock music to the rec room. It was Richard Simons, and Mary was going through her routine.
Frank, a high school friend of Mark's, and his wife, Lynne, visited. They graciously brought Arthur a talking toy truck, named Mator, from the Pixar movie, "Cars." I lost count, but I think it says over twenty-five different phrases.
Tueday evening, Melora and I went down into the glass shop in the basement and Melora helped me to slump glass in a mini kiln. After agonizing over several pattern ideas that were beyond my ability to cut glass, I made a cute little bird panel.
I find the Damn Hamster and hide it behind a collection of cleaning products in a high shelf.
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