It was a fall-chilled sunny and breezy day in Baltimore, a perfect day for a bike ride, but I had so much work to catch up on I had to stay inside and work. Bah. Fortunately my latest project required an evening trip over to Waverly to help R. assemble our carnival-style popcorn machine (don’t ask– come out to the corner of 31st and Greenmount tomorrow to find out), and the last thing I’m going to do for a quick trip under 2 miles is drive a car. I flipped on my front life, strapped on my reflective triangle, and pedaled my way over there. The chill was mild, but I had visceral memories of last winter’s bicycling, and the winter before’s, too, and oh, I love the open streets of winter riding when everybody else seems to be hibernating. We put our machine together, I pet all the cats, and then it was time to head home. I stopped at the grocery store for a thing or two, and snapped this picture of the almost-empty lot, the moon in the far background, the street light lighting up the tree they’ve put here to make it look like something other than a parking lot; it kind of is more than a parking lot–most of us are using it as a through-way from that side of Waverly to this one. I left behind these last couple of cars and zipped home, looking forward to more empty streets and chilly breezes in my immediate future.
I spent my day writing and reading and watching Shoah, which is the most intense piece of art I have ever seen. That’s all I’m going to say here, except that I can’t believe I’ve never seen it, and I think it should be required viewing, period. I had plans to go to the baseball game tonight, so regardless of the mood I was in, it was time to get on the bike and head over to R.’s for a carpool to Zephyrs stadium. Continue reading
Yep, still sick, but today my throat hurt more and I was coughing up grosser stuff and my body was less fatigued, so thankfully I think this means I’m on the mend. (Colds like this remind me how glad I am I quit smoking four years ago–this would go on for the next six weeks if I was still puffing away.) I worked from home and got some rest, but did head out on the bike this evening to meet T., a loyal reader of the blog, visiting from San Francisco. Continue reading
So when I first moved to New Orleans, the only grocery store I knew about was the Winn-Dixie on Tchoupitoulas, the regular grocery of my department chair/tour guide. I went there upon arrival to get a few things to make a first dinner in this city I hadn’t even visited before rolling up in the Hyundai Accent a few days before. There were no fresh tomatoes at the Winn Dixie. In August.* Continue reading