I came home and saw the mail van at the stop before ours and started up the street, but then I realized we hadn't gotten mail yesterday because the mail was so late and I backed up and got yesterday's mail. As I pulled into my parking spot, the van headed down toward our clusterbox, so I put the mail inside and knocked on Luke's door. His son-in-law was coming any second to take him to dinner at their house, so he didn't want to give me his mail key. I don't want him to walk down tomorrow to get it, but I really can't go out in the sun tomorrow. So I went ahead and drove back down to get my mail. The private disability people want a copy of my fed taxes and such from last year, which is not technically a big deal, but it means they're trying to disallow my disability again.
Jim McKay has died. I've seen his face on sports newsbits so long that I feel like I know him.
I found a place where you can print out a lot of Obama stickers, signs, and iron-ons for t-shirts, all free.