It has been a light week on the bicycle–just a quick ride up and down the hill to meet N. for beer and then today’s pedal around the neighborhood–coffee shop in Remington where I saw two other weekend riders–we’re all feeling fine, that Sunday 40 was a good recovery ride, Waverly for a quick visit, and back to Charles Village to meet J. for lunch and plans. After this past weekend’s ride and the ones coming this weekend, this has been just right. I took this picture of pink flowers in someone’s yard, a reminder to slo-o-o-w down, it’s still just spring. Brompty and I take off for NYC on the train in the morning so we can pedal alongside as E. runs the Brooklyn Half Marathon–my kind of travel, and it’ll be good to get some bridge riding in. I see you, summertime, but no rush, seriously.
Today I rode my first century, and here are some things I saw: fields and fields and fields of golden flowers; rows of just-sprouted somethings; horses playing chase with each other; chicken houses; two miniature ponies in a field that wasn’t miniature at all; swamps and marshes; purple flowers; patches of irises that I wanted to gather for my mom for mother’s day; piles of food and happy faces every 20 miles or so; a dead snake and a dead possum with his mouth open, blood still staining the road; and so, so so, many fields and farms like this one and others with waving greens. Oh, and a whole bunch of bicyclists. I saw a zillion other things too, but mostly I saw all of us kick out our miles, and even in those last 7 miles of driving rain, I was pretty much a happy clam. I could spin all day every day, so beautiful it is. We shall see how I feel tomorrow, but tonight I feel warm all over, tired and a bit addled, and altogether satisfied. Huzzah!
I meant to take the bike out earlier today, but I got wrapped up in work and then I heard about the sadness in Boston, and it took awhile for me to drag myself off the couch and pull my eyes off the screens that had nothing to say but kept saying something. And then I did, and I flew down the hill on my bike, because what else are you going to do? A quick swim, some food and compulsive screen watching, and I was riding back up the hill for a quick stop at J.’s in Waverly before heading in for the night. I snapped this picture of early spring’s bright yellow flowers. I’m not sure what they’re called; to me they are the cat’s claw of the mid-Atlantic, and oh so pretty. It’s only my second spring here, and already these are the flowers I’m waiting for. We really do live in some beautiful places, even when it’s not always pretty.
Today’s ride took me and the Surly over to Hampden and up Chestnut to 36th Avenue before I figured out that Falls Road is the other way, and then flew down the hill to lock up my bike and head into the studios for my breakout performance on Baltimore public radio’s Marc Steiner Show. WEAA 88.9 is in desperate need of bike racks, so I had to lock up to a gate before heading in and putting on the headphones for an hour-long conversation about gender. Continue reading
It was a beautiful day for bicycling today-warm, clear blue skies, the farmer’s market and the Love Parade and Bike Jam in Patterson Park and all kinds of summer events best bicycled between. But the cat was having issues, so instead she went in her box and and we drove to a drop-in clinic and waited and waited, leaving with a lighter wallet, some antibiotics, and yowling from all involved parties. When S. called to see if I wanted to join her and friends for brunch I squeaked out a yes and took the Surly-I wanted to feel at home-and sped down the hill for a lovely late meal in the sunshine before biking back up the hill to see if the cat could be coaxed to leave the safe confines of the inside of a boxspring. I snapped this picture of some tall yellow flowers blooming in Charles Village; summer, you are so pretty, and I trust you’ll provide many more days of bicycling to make up for my having to miss this particular one.
I am still not feeling well. I’m so, so bad at being sick–I tend to just pretend I’m fine and go about my business and hope the cold or the flu or the whatever just disappears. The first time I dislocated my shoulder I remember pleading with my hosts to just take me home so I could ice it–I don’t want to be any trouble! But I’m just going to admit it. It might be allergies, it might be a cold, it might be some other throat thing, but whatever it is, I’m tired and worn out. Continue reading
I had one of those incredibly long days, the kind where you are working from the second you get up in the morning through to the evening and you can literally count the number of minutes where you weren’t doing something for the job. Fortunately, I love my job and working all day, while exhausting, means I get to think about a lot of different things in a lot of different ways. One of my students asked in seminar this afternoon how you tell the difference between the self you perform and the self you “really are.” Oh my. Continue reading
I had one of those incredibly long days at work, 9-9, but I had a couple hours between daytime and nighttime events and spent one of them doing laps around Audubon Park. Pedal, pedal, pedal, it was just what I needed. I rolled back in to campus and stopped to take a picture of the azaleas spread out across the main entrance. That’s some wild color out there, my friends. It’s all over the city. This place is beautiful right now. When I finally headed home it was too dark to see the color, but every once in awhile, a little jasmine.
Another day, another bicycle commute to work. It was positively lovely out, again, and when I headed home at the end of the day, it was still sunny and the sky was a most brilliant blue. I stopped at the edge of campus near St. Charles to snap a picture of this bright pink flowering trees that recently showed up in front of Dinwiddie Hall (yes, that’s really what it’s called). They seem so out of place in January, and the rest of the trees surrounding it are all limb withered leaves, so what’s the deal? Continue reading
Do you ever have those days where you just feel exhausted in the very marrow of your bones? Today was that kind of day for me. Which meant that as much as I wanted to ride my bike to the Po Boy Fest or the Congo Square Rhythms Festival or out to Chalmette, I walked to brunch and then straight back home to laze about with my cats and The Grapes of Wrath. I can’t believe they let high school kids read this anti-capitalist, anti-private property, anti-disciplinary state apparatus screed, or that there isn’t a revolution of the working class led by high school juniors every year. Everybody should read this book. Anyway. Continue reading