The wway home

In article <[email hidden]>,

Claire Petersky said:

I was just riding home from the Eastgate Freeway station, not all that far.

Quite often, when I pick my route home, I try to do is minimize
unpleasantness: minimize traffic, minimize hills, minimize distance,
minimize time. And these routes become the routine way to ride. This time,
though, rather than minimize anything, I thought I'd maximize, maximize what
was good and righteous.

So, I chose a different way home. I haven't gone this way in a long time: on
the trail that runs from Phantom Lake to Larson Lake through the blueberry
farm.

The 'cross tires turned on the fine-crushed gravel. The sun was setting, and
the sky was glowing a magical gold. The marsh where all the blueberry bushes
grow smelled damp and earthy.

It was over all too soon - the trail spilled out into a neighborhood side
street, and I started to climb towards Main.

Sometimes the lyrics of Supertramp's "Take the Long Way Home"
rings true.

<http://www.seeklyrics.com/lyrics/Supertramp/Take-The-Long-Way-Home.html>

"If you're the joke of the neighbourhood
why should you care if you're feeling good
take the long way home,
take the long way home"

That tune often pops into my head while I'm riding.
Especially while on the home-bound leg, and feeling
tuckered-out. It sustains me. Especially if I'm
dressed-up in my funny, odd-ball-ish (but highly
practical!) way for the rain and I'm "the joke of
the neighbourhood."

cheers, & laughing in the rain,
Tom

--
Nothing is safe from me.
Above address is just a spam midden.
I'm really at: tkeats curlicue vcn dot bc dot ca

Claire Petersky said:

The 'cross tires turned on the fine-crushed gravel. The sun was setting, and
the sky was glowing a magical gold. The marsh where all the blueberry bushes
grow smelled damp and earthy.

Sun? Gold? In Seattle in February? That _is_ a moment to
treasure!

Chalo
back in Austin for the duration

Oh, God! She's back, with more touchy-feely stuff!

Quoted message said:

Oh, God! She's back, with more touchy-feely stuff!

And it's great having her back!

Bill

__o | No society is healthy without both the will to create
_`\(,_ | anew and the will to save the best of the old.
(_)/ (_) | - Wallace Stegner

"Claire Petersky" <[email hidden]> wrote in message
news:[email hidden]...

Quoted message said:

I was just riding home from the Eastgate Freeway station, not all that far.

Quite often, when I pick my route home, I try to do is minimize
unpleasantness: minimize traffic, minimize hills, minimize distance,
minimize time. And these routes become the routine way to ride. This time,
though, rather than minimize anything, I thought I'd maximize, maximize
what was good and righteous.

So, I chose a different way home. I haven't gone this way in a long time:
on the trail that runs from Phantom Lake to Larson Lake through the
blueberry farm.

The 'cross tires turned on the fine-crushed gravel. The sun was setting,
and the sky was glowing a magical gold. The marsh where all the blueberry
bushes grow smelled damp and earthy.

It was over all too soon - the trail spilled out into a neighborhood side
street, and I started to climb towards Main.

--
Warm Regards,

Claire Petersky
http://www.bicyclemeditations.org/
See the books I've set free at: http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky

I happened to find your wonderful ruminations on your beater Rockhopper bike
written a while back, and really got me thinking about why and how people
just love their bikes and what they mean to them on a daily basis. I bought
some maps from Adventure Cycling Association and they sent along a couple of
small stickers that say, "I dream on two wheels." Kind of sums it up.

Keep'em coming. Thanks.

Claire, I was wondering today if you've ever given any serious
consideration to the pressing issue of how many angels can dance on
the head of a pin?

In article <[email hidden]>,

Quoted message said:

Claire, I was wondering today if you've ever given any serious
consideration to the pressing issue of how many angels can dance on
the head of a pin?

Anybody who knows anything already knows
the answer to that old chestnut.

Besides, angels don't dance. They just
deliver messages, and tussle with patriarchs
who refuse delivery. Same as any postal worker
or bailiff or deputy.

--
Nothing is safe from me.
Above address is just a spam midden.
I'm really at: tkeats curlicue vcn dot bc dot ca

"Tom Keats" <[email hidden]> wrote in message
news:[email hidden]...

Quoted message said:

Besides, angels don't dance. They just
deliver messages, and tussle with patriarchs
who refuse delivery. Same as any postal worker
or bailiff or deputy.

I happened to take a look at this thread again this morning, and thought
about this above post of Tom's early in the morning's ride. I had a vision
of an angel in a UPS uniform. In fact, he resembled the hunky UPS Guy in
Legally Blonde. Angels generally have a good sense of humor. I thought this
was pretty funny.

Then, a few miles later, I rolled past a big UPS facility. One big brown
truck after another poured out of the lot; others, backed up waited for the
light to turn green. A host of angels made manifest in physical reality! I
gave the driver of the one behind me, while I was waiting for the light, a
big grin. Even if he didn't know why, it made me happy.

--
Warm Regards,

Claire Petersky
http://www.bicyclemeditations.org/
See the books I've set free at: http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky