I'm just trying to have a gourd time with as much pumpkin spice as I can

Badger and I started the morning by walking over the tracks to the yard sale in front of the school.
She’d been eyeing a leather jacket since yesterday.
There was no price on it, so I took it up to the table.
It was fifty dollars.
I think she said they originally paid two hundred for it.

She put the jacket back on the rack.
Fifty felt fair, but it had that stored-too-long look.
Her storage setup’s a barn, more or less.
It would need dry cleaning, and I don’t even know if we still have one close by.

By the time we got back home, Cowboy was awake, which surprised me.
He didn’t get to bed until 4:52 AM.
They worked him over again.
We spent the day on the road; we left at 11 AM and got home at 3:30 PM.
Badger and I told him we were going to let him rest today, but he insisted on taking us to the WP Bookstore.
Badger spent an eternity in there.
Seriously, I thought we were going to have to put in a cot and a coffee maker.
I used to be like her, but these days I'm just too exhausted to want to linger long.
I might fuss a little, but I’d rather she lingered in a bookstore and came home with books, than roam a mall and return with overpriced junk.

We swung by Walmart, then zipped through Goodwill.
I grabbed a few more t-shirts I don’t have space for, but couldn’t leave behind.
I probably should’ve looked for sweats.
I’m low on those and will need them soon.
Pretty sure winter stock hasn’t hit the racks yet.

Dunkin’s stop? 
Obviously.
It’s pumpkin season.
I had Badger bump my drink to six pumps of pumpkin spice; it normally comes with three.
She and Cowboy said it was overkill, but 🤷🏻‍♀️
I’ve had COVID twice, and my taste and smell haven’t been the same since.
It’s hit or miss. 
I never know on a given day whether I’ll be able to smell or taste or not.
People probably think I’m nuts, but whatever. 
It is what it is.

Home, I figured Cowboy would rest.
He went outside; I lost him, looked next door, and he was mowing Van Gogh's yard. 
And I learned his name.
Cowboy said Van Gogh’s girlfriend told him he couldn’t use a riding mower. That was “lazy.”
But that yard’s nearly half an acre, and the grass was above the knees.
A push mower would take hours, and that’s on a good day.
Cowboy took pity and mowed it with his zero-turn.
If Van Gogh keeps at it, every other day maybe, he might manage with the push mower.
But that’s a stretch.

Badger took over supper and sent me out of the kitchen.
She put together salmon, rice, candied pineapple, and veggie egg rolls.
It turned out pretty tasty.
While she worked, I sat in the she-shed for a while.
It feels good out there, although this seems to be spider birthing season.

After supper, Cowboy and Heron went out to weed whack.
Heron had come home early from work, so the timing worked out.

Badger and I checked out two caves she wants to go to for her birthday on YouTube: one I suggested, and the one she insists on going to.
I told her we’d do this for her birthday, but I’d sit in the car while she and her dad do the tour.
I’m not Batman. 
I don’t do caves.
Cowboy isn’t afraid of anything, as far as I can tell, except maybe chihuahuas and doctors.

After TV time and typing this up, I am finally heading to bed.
I am running on fumes, so, so sleepy.