First - apologies to our loyal readers. All one of you :) The past three days of moving into the space has been sort of like sticking your head in a tornado with each foot planted in a cuisinart. It's all going to be great and it's all going to be exciting - but right now we are exhausted and we still seem to be - three days on - living in an empty apartment with nothing but a mattress on the floor, looking at each other and saying 'eep'.So it's July 3rd - and about an hour ago (one a.m.) Rich took the dog for a walk and then bursts into the apartment saying that he thought the building was on fire - and I had smelled some smoke in the apartment but just thought the shop-vac was doing overtime... we grabbed the Po dog and hurtled downstairs... Rich said he had been in the alley way at the side of the theatre and it was FILLED with smoke... by the time we got back down it had dissappated somewhat but we couldn't find the source. I kept saying "did we sign the insurance papers, did we sign the insurance papers" like Dustin Hoffman in "Rain Man". We went down the side of the building and there were two firecrackers sitting there. It seems that some youths decided to celebrate the birth of our nation by scaring the crap out of us. False alarm. For about fifteen minutes while we waited for the police to tell us everything was fine (the firecrackers were VERY close to our gas main and Rich was nervous they were still live) we thought that we might be victims of some sort of anti-musical-theatre-and-dachusnd-patriotic-festive-hate crime. I mean for a little while there people... we were a little freaked. But no. Just three kids on a bike. So THEY just got cut from the possible future casting call of our production of 'High School Musical' - how's THAT for comeuppance, people? And as the contortionist adult film star once said, 'what goes around comes around'. Tomorrow Rich's parents are coming and while he and his dad chart out a five year demo/reno/tivo (hey - that's important TOO, kids) plan, I shall huddle in front of my screen and speak to you. You... my wonderful friends who have beds and chairs to sit on, and bathrooms with BATHS, and walls with paint, and kitchens with....well a kitchen, really. So - we are celebrating the Fourth in true pioneer spirit - we're just like the founding fathers except we are anxious to gain freedom from the shackles of paint stripper. And fireworks. I now feel fireworks should only be sold to consenting adults - by whom I mean Walt Disney. Period. He's dead you say? That's ok too. Dead people don't try to blow up my real estate :) I mean, it's kind of incredible - around here - firework stores are EVERYWHERE you look... they take over empty store fronts like HR Blocks take over Manhattan in tax season. Whatever happened to "you'll shoot your eye out"? But, at least i now HAVE A COMPUTER - plugged in and humming - so we're baaaaaaaaaackkkkkk. Catch up time tomorrow.