The perfect weekend. No money, no plans, and great weather.
I think we'll start by hitting McDonald's when they turn over to the lunch menu and then go up the road to the parkfarmplaygroundcommunitycenter for a picnic. We'll look at our pony, Winnie, and the goats, sheep, ducks, geese and turkeys. London wants to ask the farmer why he is "missing a cow." The other farm we visit just has cows and pigs.
Then I think we'll come home, crack a cold one and sit by the pool for a few hours. Michele made a new way-tat-tooed-too girlfriend last night named Elvira or something like that. She moved here eight years ago from Sweden to get married (and divorced) and has zero accent because "I work hard to practise my English every day, thank you." -- Although she did say she was "glad there are no croak-o-day-als in the pool." Crock, croak, I let it slide. It was like the milk/melk or root/rowt thing.
We will then prolly cook some kind of animal on the grill, and eventually end up inside for an evening of watching what the DVR trolled over the last 24.
The perfect weekend. Ready, steady, GO!