Thicker fog this morning. A cooler start to the day.

Hard to tell if he really is sick, or if he’s just trying to stay home and play video games.

Stuck upstairs.

Fog still thick, weaving itself in and out of the trees.

Woodchipper is back.

He goes and gets him from school.

The hours are passing so slowly, but ultimately, that is a good thing.

“We’re soft?” They feel offended. We laugh. They drive down the lane and we bump them with pads. They feel tougher and that’s the goal.

Patience is a virtue.

Cravings.