Just Like Riding A Bike

The announcement today (last night, really) is significant enough to warrant its own discussion, but I have a feeling that you are being smothered by expert commentary without my help.  I’m not going to talk about the news here, other than to say that it feels strange to revel in the snuffing out of a life, regardless of whose it is.  Maybe I’m just not tough enough.

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Yesterday was the perfect Sunday.  The only thing I can imagine that could’ve thrown it over the top would have been getting smothered by a pile of purring kittens.  But since much of the afternoon was spent cycling, I probably would have run them over, so I’m relieved that my day was just normal perfect, as opposed to kitten pile perfect.  Perhaps another day.

First of all, we went to church.  Since moving north at the beginning of February, we haven’t had a Sunday available for it.  We’ve either been working or traveling, except for that one day that I made us so late that we missed church by twenty minutes and went out to breakfast instead.  The bacon was good, but the delay made it that much more exciting to finally get to croon some hymns with a few dozen strangers yesterday.  Also I’ve never seen a church so eager to greet one other at the beginning of a service – it must have lasted a full five minutes and was so enthusiastic that I felt like pawing at the old lady behind me for a bear hug.  It was wonderful.

We did some quick grocery shopping following church.  Yes, this is worth mentioning. Remember when you were a kid, and how going to the bank drive-up window was a thrill because that little bottle would take your money and fly up the plastic tube to the teller, and it was so exciting??  Well, I am that kid and grocery shopping is my drive-up window.  You can’t get chipotle Tabasco just anywhere up here, and we smother this sweet nectar on almost everything.  Thank you, Hannaford Supermarkets, for existing in the north.  An hour’s drive is no price to pay for your bounty.

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Later that afternoon, once the post-grocery high had faded, C and I decided to hit the pavement on our road bikes.  A half-mile from our cabin, we can hop on a main drag that heads east, but the next town is like, 27 miles away, so there is lots of open road.  So much open road, in fact, that in our 30-mile ride, we were passed by fewer than twenty cars.  And at least three of them passed us in both directions.  My quads were on fire when we finally made it home, but the ride was spectacular.  We may not be in the Rockies, but - I’m telling you - the views are extreme and stunning.  I didn’t bring my camera along, but it wouldn’t have done justice to the landscape even if I had.  Biking is a perfect way to see the world around you; despite the pedaling, you can hear the birds singing clearly, feel the sweet spring air whoosh by your face, and periodically catch a tire on a pothole and fly over your handlebars.  Luckily we both stayed upright yesterday, and completed our ride without having to hop off the bikes and breathe from an oxygen tank (which is a significant feat for me; C, not so much).   We came home and I promptly did my stretching in a hot shower.  I do NOT recommend trying this at home. 

The day was capped off by the ugly Miami-Celtics game, grilled asparagus, and a lot of lounging.  Can yesterday be bested?  I’m not sure, but I know we’ll try to find out.