Once the sun moved yesterday I continued filling more of the cracks in the pavement outside the side door.  It was somewhat easier since the tubes had sat outside in the heat, yet surprisingly still not truly liquid most of the time.  Maybe it was old merchandise?  In any event, after considerably more time and energy, I did make progress.  By the time I'd used up tube # 2  it was clear that I was out of steam (and sweating profusely) though unfortunately with some 'crackage' left to go.  It's already too hot out there on the east side this morning, but once that's in the shade later this afternoon I know what I will be doing to ensure the crack is water-proofed and ready for Tuesday's irrigation.

Rachelle called yesterday (and right when Alex & Gabby had come to the back door, and Marcie & Mike to the front door) so I didn't answer but called her back once things settled down.  (Amazing how the phone usually seems to ring only when other things are going on...)

We had a nice long chat, as usual, and sounds like Bob's chemo is going as well as can be expected. Even though things are starting to open up she said there's not much incentive to go out and about since it's in the 90s and very humid there - and sadly with no relief in sight.  

I'm wondering how Andy & Sandy's plan to visit outside with Mom went yesterday, now that Riderwood is finally allowing limited numbers of people on campus; they may have been forced to hang out in Mom's apartment after all.

  However, with all three of them totally isolated at home for months now, it should have been pretty safe, especially if they social distanced while there. 

Last night's movie was The Scapegoat.

At the end we discovered it was based on a book by Daphne Du Maurier.  

(Her Rebecca has always been one of my favorite books!)  

By chance, John and Jean--one English, the other French--meet in a provincial railway station. Their resemblance to each other is uncanny, and they spend the next few hours talking and drinking - until at last John falls into a drunken stupor. It's to be his last carefree moment, for when he wakes, Jean has stolen his identity and disappeared. So the Englishman steps into the Frenchman's shoes, and faces a variety of perplexing roles - as owner of a chateau, director of a failing business, head of a fractious family, and master of nothing.  Gripping and complex, The Scapegoat is a masterful exploration of doubling and identity, and of the dark side of the self.

During the movie we were 'treated' to the sounds of multiple neighborhood fireworks, but never did go outside to view them.  Brownie noticed them, but like last year didn't seem overly distressed by the loud noises.

However I had made sure he was wearing his ID tags yesterday, given how many pets go missing during firework holidays!  Lately at home I've often been letting him go 'au naturel' without his harness (unless he's helping me out front or we're going for an errand in the car), but just in case he got spooked yesterday and somehow escaped the yard I definitely wanted him tagged. Even though he's chipped, too often people don't know to check!