If It Weren't For Bad Luck. . .

While Kim and the kids stayed at the park this morning, I ventured off to find a wi-fi connection that would work. I was able to log on and get all of my emails, so mission accomplished. Unfortunately, things went downhill from there.

After I got back to the park and had lunch, I was walking across the campground, slipped on a landscape timber, and went face first into the ground. My left hand went into the gravel and my right hand went into a fire pit. My right leg also hit the fire pit. What a klutz.

I came back to the RV so Kim could tend to me (I’m a big baby when I’m sick or hurt). After washing away the dirt, gravel, and soot, all that was left was a small cut on my right hand and scrape on my right thigh. I also think I sprained my right thumb.

Later in the afternoon I was walking across the same area where I fell when I stepped in a big pile of dog poop. I didn’t realize that I had stepped in it, so I tracked it into the RV. Thankfully, the clean-up wasn’t too involved.

After my latest mishap, Kim said, in her best southern accent, “If it weren’t for bad luck, you wouldn’t have no luck at all.” So true.

P.S. -- Happy Birthday, Rhonnie!