He Thinks

He thinks I got them
for him
but secretly I got them
for me
because now we can pedal
to breakfast
together.




- Baggie

And I Do!

- Old Bag :-)

Not Quite what I was Hoping for...

rainfall
all day last Thursday
four days before Christmas
in December
in Minnesota
as my mind wandered 10 degrees lower
and saw inches of snowfall
floating to the ground
my reality had slush and disappointment building
growing
freezing overnight
and the days remain gray and overly warm
keeping us in the limbo that's neither fall nor winter
but worse
because running on the neighborhood streets now is dicey
and I haven't picked-up those studded bicycle tires YET
and while spinning on the trainer is good for
my NetFlix subscription
I'd just rather be outside
sliding through the woods
on the skinny skis

- ob

BUT, I'm closer to buying those tires!

Tagged

So, Lunatic, Pete and Shawn passed the baton or maybe I've been hit with it, not sure yet and I get to tell you five things about myself that you may not know.

1. My baloney has a first name
2. My hairdresser really doesn't know
3. I'm obsequious, purple and clairvoyant
4. People hate me because I'm beautiful
5. I'd gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today

And if you recognize all five of those, you're at least as old as I am.

Alright...five things.

1. I used to paint. Not walls, but on canvas. I drew also...and chalked and sewed and played the flute and built stage sets and ran track and played basketball and wrote -- some of those things up until just a few years ago, a couple still. And, by a stroke of luck I was halfway decent at it, not great by any means, but decent. I was one of those kids who could've been great at something if I'd have applied myself heard that before? It took until I was in my 30s for me to realize the thing I'm really good at is trying small bits of everything. There's always something more out there to understand. AND, it serves me well in my profession -- I get the computer geek, the jock, the art nerd, the musician because I've been there.

2. I don't want to be a teacher anymore. I like what I do. I'd just rather not have to be somewhere every day.

3. I believe the Brady Bunch lied. I know. We tried putting together two families and it just wasn't all smiles and Alice.

4. My latest nickname was Weezie, but I'm only called that by buds from back home...other nicknames have been Bean, Ruby, Umbie, and Jeanne-Weenie in her Teeny Bikini damn you Markey Odegard!

5. Joey Peterka's crying was music to my ears. I was five. It was Kindergarten. We got four-pronged TB tests in school. I'll never forget lining up, rolling up sleeves, and one-by-one holding out our arms, squeezing our eyes shut, and getting the four-pronged prick. The class bully, Joey Peterka, couldn't or wouldn't? move his sleeve up very far so he got the stick on his inner wrist. I cringed as I watched the poke. There was a split second of silence, then my eyes got big as Joey howled and cried real tears. Looks of amazement crossed the room as he went to the teacher for comfort. No one else cried. Joey lost his power that day.

Sending the tag along to the four corners and across the sea: Tim, XBunny, George, Juancho, Alberto

- TOB being triple-tagged, does it mean I need to write 15 things?!

i kinda like it

but don't tell anyone
because four days ago I wrote about hating it
then yesterday we wheeled over to midtown
breakfasted, shopped, watched the aztec dancers
and today we rolled to coffee
but took the long way home
and I forgot about the skis


- ob

That's It?

So the other day I think to myself, I think I don't feel like doing all 12 miles of my commute to work.

And that night The Sweetie says to me, he says I'm thinking of driving to that one Park-and-Ride lot and commuting from there...it would cut my 19-miler to 12.

And I think to myself, I think there are a couple Park-and-Ride lots on MY commute! even though buses don't actually go that direction when I need to be going that direction. So I scope-out the Metro Transit site. I can cut my 12-miler to an eight-miler or even to a four-miler...

...a four-miler...I wonder to myself, I wonder How long does a four-miler take when I really need to get somewhere?

So the next morning I haul the ride outta the trunk and commence to commuting four miles.

I pedal.

I pedal.

I ped- I’m there?!

          therehere? that was IT?

THAT'S ALL THERE IS?!!

So the bike and I stand outside the front door of the building and I think to myself, I think HUH.

So I could DO this year-round...even on those days when I need to get to classes after work but I'd have to buy those studded Nokians!


-OB because then I'd be a stud

And a Time....

We've said it over and over this fall:

Man, this is it. What a day!

I've got so much to do, but this is the last nice day of the season.

If we don't ride, we'll miss out on the last one

Gotta get out -- this'll be the last nice day of the year.

Well, the last day has been here and gone several times. It comes. It goes. It comes back again. It leaves. Temps high...low...high, low, highlowhighlowhighlow. Now, it's 45 drizzly degrees and it's mid-December.

Don't get me wrong. I had a wonderful Saturday of mountain biking. I bicycled my Sunday errands I rode to the mall? and it was like really cool?

And after I was finished, I hung everybody back up on their garage hooks, turned the padlock key, headed indoors and commenced to waitin'

waiTING

because I should be seeing white when I look out the window. The routine is that the warm-ups last for a day or two, then we get blasted with low temps and eventually snow. It's SUPPOSED to happen that way. By now, I should be shoveling the stuff out of the driveway at seven in the morning because of the overnight snowfall. I should be wiping the crud off the windshield because of the road slop and spatter. I should be able to ride to the grocery store without need of my headlight because in winter the brightness emanates from the ground.

Because all of that means it's ski season.

I love cycling...love the bike, love the freedom, love the opportunities it offers me. But to everything um, turnturnturn, there is a season turnturnturn.... Spring, summer, fall, and winter. In the first three ya ride. In the last one the bicycle gets a rest and ya ski. It's just what you do. So what's this thing we're in right now? Post-Autumn? Pre-winter? There's not a season called GrayBarrenDrabMiserableRainyExistence yet that's what has arrived.

- TOB yeah, and ho, ho, ho too

Writer's Block

and so I sit
crack my knuckles
fingers hover just over the keys
breath held
eyes closed
as a piano player during that fraction of time
before the notes sound
and


I
don't
hear
anything
yet



- ob

Between Seasons

The Joys of Home Ownership

BEFORE

AFTER

BEFORE BEFORE

AFTER

AFTER

- OB lived with those for FOUR YEARS before finally feelin' the motivation