Predictable?

The fog forecast for this morning had been good for a few days so I was hopeful that a brocken spectre may emerge.  The forecast lately has been quite temperamental though and forecasting the right amount of fog is definitely not clearcut.  So, predictably, come Sunday night, the fog symbol disappeared and this morning, I ventured out with Little Dog in the lightest of low mists over the valley.  Without enough cloud to play in, I hopped on my bike for my local favourite around Malham Moor.  The famers seem to have been going some to muck spread the whole of the Dales but we breathed it in and smiled in the warming sunshine.

I seem more predictable than the weather.  While waiting on the outdoor seats for some sustenance at the Kilnsey cafe, the chef-owner proudly hand delivered my GF cheese toastie, announcing to the world with a smile, 'I knew this would be you!'  He's a lovely person to catch up with.

Arriving home, Rich was cooking an early tea and when I looked over his shoulder some of the recipe seemed to be missing.   I looked in the mirror and some of my face had gone too.  Hoping to catch it early, I popped some migraine tablets and multiple other combinations and hoped for the best.  The lights grew and twinkled in the periphery of my vision and eventually faded but then decided to have another go and started on the other side.  Time to nap on the sofa.  Thankfully, migraines nowadays are much less predictable - but no less horrible.