So, if you ride a bike as much as I do, you are bound to get in an accident or two.  Yep.  The day started with a leisurely ride down to the Bywater for brunch.  I then headed toward the Lower Ninth to take in some P1 art, but right before I took that right from Poland onto the St. Claude bridge over the Industrial Canal, I slammed in to an opening car door.  It took me completely by surprise–I barely had time to turn a little to the left–and I rammed into that purple Scion driver’s side door with my right shoulder (surgical reconstruction has made it strong, thank goodness), right cheek, and right thigh.  I stayed on the bike and I think I’m ok, though still shaken up, but the car door  can’t say the same; I bent its hinges and it wouldn’t close.  I lingered for a bit, talking to John, the driver, and then got back on my bike and road over the bridge and continued on my way.  Until I got C. on the phone and burst in to tears.  That was really scary!  And the adrenaline started wearing off, so I started to feel the pain.  I cut my art visit short after touring the Lower Ninth Ward Village and headed home, grateful for the St. Claude bike lane.  I took this picture of a brick facade, crumbling but for sale.  Actually, it’s sold.  I wonder who bought it and what they’ll do with it.  Fortunately, I live here, and I ride my bike, accidents and cold and rain be damned, everywhere.  So I’ll be back to see what happens on this corner.  Stay tuned.