I didn’t ride to work on Wednesday. It was cold and rainy and the threat of snow loomed in the forecast. I’ve bike commuted in similar conditions scores of times but I decided to use the bad weather as an excuse to give my back some rest.
On Thanksgiving, I couldn’t bring myself to put on all my bike gear so I slapped on my hiking shoes and went for a 4 mile walk around the neightborghood. Nancy “Two Sheds” Duley spotted me about a mile from home but decided I looked nefarious and took a pass at calling out “Hey, Rootchopper!” I wonder what happens when people do this and it’s not me. “You must have me mistaken with someone else. I’m Stumpgrinder.”
I was a pretty good boy on Thanksgiving, eschewing dessert and avoiding a food coma.
Friday was a day of sloth. I couldn’t get through the whole day indoors so I walked to the drugstore 1 1/4 away. Nancy “Two Sheds” Duley missed me this time.
Today I used The Mule to ride to a shoe repair shop to rescue my shoe from the cobbler. After that I rode into Old Town to check out the families strolling about. It was just that kind of day. The farmers’ market was buzzing. I returned by way of Jones Point Park where I stopped to check out the underside of the Woodrow Wilson Bridge. It’s a pretty impressive structure.
About a mile from home a fluffy little dog started chasing me. It looked like a cotton ball with feet. It was on the grass running parallel to me, barking wih everything it had, when it turned to attack. There was a small grass covered trench that ran along the side of the road. Fluffy didn’t see it and did a somersault into the rut. Only it’s pride was hurt.
When I got home I showered and changed. I was looking in the fridge for some milk and my back seized. I am writing this with an ice pack jammed in the waist of my pants. This is getting old.