Really trying to keep my Tumblr experience all original work. My most recent masterpiece, tonight’s dinner.
Too Young To Die.
This evening I have plans to join people for a bike ride. It’s a route I’ve ridden multiple times, only this time I’m riding it on my new track bike.
I hope I remember I don’t have gears.
I hope I remember I have only one hand brake.
I hope I remember to pace myself.
I hope I don’t get dropped.
I hope I don’t crash.
I hope I don’t get chased by a dog.
I hope I can fake it ‘til I make it.
I hope I don’t quit.
I cannot quit.
Dear Lordie, don’t let me quit.
Another recently (almost) finished project. Love the smell of wet wool.
Dear froglet,
Dry and brown in hue,
I deal with death
Far worse than you.
Come to Kimberly Arms.
Feel at peace in their warm embrace. Let the cares and worries of the world melt away like icicles on a pale spring morning or a Snickers Bar on an asphalt driveway.
Come to Kimberly Arms.
Escape the perils of reality: heartache, disaster, bandwidth constrictions.
Come to Kimberly Arms.
Never will they pinch or squeeze. Management, however, will not be held responsible for encounters with fingernails (warranted or otherwise.)
Come to Kimberly Arms.
If you lived here, you’d be home right now.
*thank you to JRG for the photo*
Headline: Urban Moth Disguised As Discarded Bubblegum
Another batch of recently finished projects.
I have been Tumbld!
As her legs slowed and her wheels crackled through the familiar gravel, she realized she had just accomplished the impossible. The muscles that had screamed in defiance and the lungs that had bristled at an assault of freezing oxygen had not deterred her. Her victory over weakness, fear and honking cars was: she had ridden uphill and into the wind both ways.
Glad to have been picked, 62words… Thank you!
Me vs. The Wind
On the last 2 miles of my bike ride today I was hit with a wind that almost blew me off my bike. I struggled uphill so painfully slow (and probably looked so miserable) that drivers slowed to call out encouragement.
“You got it!” seemed to be the popular phrase.
I gritted my teeth and pressed on, wobbling dangerously each time a new gust struck me. This was no ordinary wind. I could not bear down and fight against it, nor could I brace myself or veer into it or try to use it to my advantage. This wind was a moody bitch that flung sand in my eyes from the left and bugs in my mouth from the right. She was pummeling me from literally every direction, attempting, I assume, to get me to quit.
But the people in the cars wanted me to make it.
I wish I could’ve somehow thanked them. I didn’t have the energy to raise a hand or even nod my head. All I could focus on was my next pedal stroke… and proving those people right.