I don’t usually write a 3rd post, but the 3 F alliteration (contrived as it is) was not to be ignored.

I fell down on the street when I was going to the market; misjudged a curb when I jumped over a puddle, in front of half a dozen people at the bus stop, all of whom helped me get right-side-up again.  Banged my bad knee into the curb, the one without a kneecap.

I hadn’t taken any acetaminophen this morning, but have now.

Falling with Fibromyalgia on the First February Friday: You can’t be more alliterate than that, unless I was to throw in a couple of fucks and some fear (which you will notice I refrained from doing), or feckless.

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A dove is back, this one is more gray breasted than the previous, it can’t get at the feeder, so goes down to the seed that has fallen onto the snow, there is plenty of that; sparrows are sprinkly eaters.

And so it goes this morning.