I woke up early this morning with an overwhelming desire to play hooky, and I grumped around for awhile until giving in to the senioritis. After a trip to school for some lazy research and a faculty meeting it was time to get on my bike and out in this 80 degree blue sky day–oh, it was perfect out there. I pedaled up to Hampden to meet S. for lunch and a piece of warmed cherry pie with vanilla ice cream–she wisely wanted to celebrate Pi Day (when did this become a thing, by the way?)–and then I rode down the hill to the park for a quick trip around the reservoir, which is ringed entirely with daffodils right now. I took the Jones Falls Trail down the hill and made a quick stop at the bike shoppe, where I test rode a Brompton. Yes, I want it, and no, I can’t afford it. I kept the fantasy of folding the bike and carrying it on the train or bus on my way up and down the east coast as I rode down to Fells Point and around to Canton Waterfront Park. I watched a grandma coordinate bird feeding with three grandkids and then headed up toward Canton. I stopped at S. Ellwood and Hudson to finally snap a picture of one of the many grand flowering trees all over town right now; it’s like snowballs in the sky, I swear. I rode back to Mt. Vernon to meet V. and D. for ice cream. Yeah, I know, I already had pie, but it was just that sort of day, the perfect kind, the kind where you get pie and ice cream and also ice cream. We talked about bikes and summertime and what our skin will do with all that sun, and then I was back up the hill to home, a quick stop at the store for catnip for the kittens, because their day should have some treats too. It was all just what I needed.