"Ah, the hazy world of morning fog — where everything feels like a dream

8:30 this morning found me and Badger on the road, chasing fog.
We woke up to heavy fog, and she wanted river pictures—it’s about a mile to the river, a mile back.
By the time we got out there, the fog had lifted.
But she got a good picture of a hawk taking a bath in the Methodist Creek.

Right before we got to the cemetery road, I wasn’t paying attention and slid in a big old puddle of mud.
One leg went right, one leg went left, and I grabbed Badger’s arm to keep from doing a full-on split.
She yelled, “Ow! No one else can find a vein, but you found a vein—ow!”
I told her it was her veins or an ambulance, and I sure to heck wasn’t going to explain to the ER how I managed to break a hip.
Not to mention, Cowboy was still at home snoring in bed—he wouldn’t have a clue where we got to.

It didn’t hurt at the time, but after a hot shower—well, a delicate area is hurting. 
And only on the right side, oddly enough.
Dr. Google and AI say I’ve got a groin sprain.
Yay me.

There isn’t a whole lot to chitter-chatter about.

Heron worked—he honked at us as he went by the river.
Badger and I made darn sure we were well, well out of that road by the time he zoomed past.

Cowboy works—duh.
He always works.

Raven headed to the other parents.
We’re fairly sure his schedule is Saturday, Sunday, and Monday—maybe Wednesday, but that one’s iffy.
He might work 5 a.m. to 5 p.m., or it could be 5 p.m. to 5 a.m.
Look, I’ve got a crappy memory, and Raven gets prickly if you ask him more than once about his schedule.

On Fridays, he goes up to have time with his littles.
It’s about an hour round trip from our house to hers, and I guess he figures he can’t make it to work if he has to take the littles home afterward.

Badger and I have occupied ourselves—mostly TV. 
She stayed in her room a large part of the day.
I was reading—still haven’t finished that darn Cronkite book—and took a wee nap.

Let me tell you, Badger’s come up with this recipe for what I call candied pineapple.
Healthy?
 Heck no—but tasty.
I know it has schnapps, brown sugar, and butter in it, but the rest is a jealously guarded secret.
That was my supper tonight.

It’s 9 p.m. and almost pill time, so I’m calling it a day and going back to dumb old Cronkite. 
I’m about ready to abandon that book—I’ve been reading it since July.

My days are governed by pills, I believe:
A.M. is thyroid, P.M. is hives—and the hives meds come with side effects, one of which is drowsiness and dizziness.

Oooh, have y’all seen the moon?
It’s a purty shade of orange now—it was pink when Badger and me took our night walk earlier.

Now I’m for sure heading to bed. 
Nap or no nap, I’m sleepy.