The sun was shining this morning. My husband, who will cheerfully confess to
wimping out about riding to work lately because of all the rain, decided
he'd go for a bike ride. He sort of messed around all morning, playing
Defenders, watching the Daily Show with me taped from before, that sort of
thing. Finally, he gets on his bike.
Me, I'm in the kitchen, hard at work because we have a dinner party this
evening. While I'm cooking away, I start to notice that it's clouded over a
bit. Then I notice it's raining.
At some point, I went outside to snip fresh herbs. It is windy, with pelting
icy cold rain. I thought of my husband, dressed in a short-sleeved jersey,
jacket, and shorts. No tights. Not even his wool liner that he's so enamored
with. I thought, maybe he'll call me on the cell phone.
I come down stairs to take a break from cooking, and he comes in. The poor
guy is completely soaked. But he reported having a great ride. Apparently
there was a fire on the lake road, and the closed it down to through
traffic, so there were hardly any cars. And as he said, "it just proves I
can go for a ride and it can rain, and no harm done."
--
Warm Regards,
Claire Petersky
http://www.bicyclemeditations.org/
Personal page: http://www.geocities.com/cpetersky/
See the books I've set free at:
http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky