spokesNspin

I got up this morning and went grocery shopping with Elle since I needed to put gas in the tank. I normally go grocery shopping on my bike with the trailer.

In the grocery store every time I turned the corner, I was stuck with these two women who seemed to be able take up every available space and be completely clueless that there were other people in the store. 

When I got to the only open check out counter they were there again in front of me.

How is it that some people accomplish that?  Like when two people manage to take up an entire 15 foot wide sidewalk so you can’t pass.  That really chafes my hide!

I took my grocries home and then needed togo to Target for a new razor.   My electric razor died.  Maybe I should go back to my bearded days.  That would be more “green”.  I decided to again take Elle and drive a possible bike route.

There are two routes that I can take avoiding major traffic roads.  The distances are 3.9 and 2.7 miles respectively.  A distance easily done on my bike.   Here is the problem:

When I got to Target I found this:

That is a major plus.  Wahoo a bike rack! I think I will write Target and give them an atta boy.  I guess I will need to give bicycling there a try.

And just so you know, a 12 count package of Charmin Ultra Strong is almost a dollar less at Target than at Shopper’s.

Then Pilates class and a case of a person who has no sense of personal space.  The class was by no means full.  There was plenty of room so why did this woman set up so close me? :( 

I wouldn’t mind playing footsies with some women in the class but not this one.

And for those of you who have dishwashers and have forgotten what life is like for those  chained to manual domestic house work,  this is what it looks like when dishes that have been accumulating for a few days finally get attacked on Saturday afternoon.

One trait that I inherited from my father is the love of getting up early in the morning. 

Today was one of those special mornings.  I was out the door for my 13 mile bike ride to work at about 5:10 AM.  It was still dark but just starting to get light.  There was very little wind.  The temperature was in the high forties.  Cold enough to feel slightly uncomfortable but just perfect when you are warmed up ten minutes into the ride.

It was so peaceful and quiet as I pedaled through Dyke Marsh.   In Old Town,  a couple  jogged together and a woman was walking her dog.  There were a few delivery trucks.  It was a quiet city starting to wake up with small yawns and stretches anticipating the commuters and tourists that would be coming later.

At Gravelly Point, I could look across the Potomac to DC.  There wasn’t a single ripple in the river.  It was like looking across a giant mirror as  the sun was rising in a huge orange ball behind the DC skyline. 

The endorphins were flowing and I had the feeling that mornings just don’t come any more beautiful.  

If felt so good to be alive and able to start my day on such a high.  I felt sorry for anyone sleeping or driving in a car to work.

As I reported earlier, Les had tough luck on his attempt to ride across the U.S.

 Read his latest post on his trip home and current condition.  Leo sees nothing but good luck in everything.

I got an email from my son Tom the other day.  He and his wife are new home owners.  In the email he said:

Sheryl and I made an agreement that I would not start working on a pond until we have a taller fence for privacy and I fix all immediate house problems that need to be fixed. Thursday morning I was very bored because I dont go to work until noon so I decided to dig out the clothesline poles in the backyard, they are ugly and take up the sunniest spot for gardening and such. Two days and two large holes later I decided I might as well start on the pond since I now have two large holes all ready dug! Sheryl was so impressed with how large and fast I dug that she didn’t mind too much.

Sheryl should have done a little more checking on Tommy’s background. What she is not aware of is that digging holes for boys is what accessorizing is for girls. Girls aren’t going any where when they accessorize. Putting the jewelery, hats etc on is it’s own reward.

For boys, digging holes ranks right up there with building fires.  And,  it has none of the inherent risk of fire building. Though risk assessment and management are as foreign to a young man as they are to a George W Bush war plan.  Yes, digging a hole is an immense pleasure. 

Do  women have any idea what it feels like to use rope and ladder to climb out of a hole, lean on your shovel and gaze over the precipice? Why do you think God created places like the Grand Canyon?  Yes digging holes is… well it’s… it’s next to Godliness!

When my father dug out the basement under the house where I grew up he piled the dirt in back yard.  The intent was to eventually haul it off.  It became such a great place for little boys to dig that he just decided to leave it.

It was so much better than a sandbox.  A sandbox was for city kids who wore Bermuda shorts and pressed collared polo shirts and dug in their sand box with a tiny shovel and pail from the five and dime.

We had a manly sized place to dig. There is a hole on that small hill that is the result of much of my youthful energy. Over the course of the years it was a farm, a lake, manly construction site,military fortress etc. It continues on to this day as a fire pit for wieny roasts.

Women just don’t understand the pleasure of digging a hole just for the sake of digging.   It is the lack of understanding the young male mindset in regards to digging that caused Tommy’s mother to be outwitted in an attempt to put an end to his badgering her to let him build a pond in the backyard.

She finally gave in and told him if he would dig the hole himself he could have a pond.  My gosh woman why didn’t you ask me first?  You couldn’t have made Tommy happier if you had given him his birthday and Christmas every day for the next 15 years and unlimited free passes for putting any of his collection of critters in his sister’s bed.

Two hours later she looked out the window and to her horror Tommy had disappeared. To  her chagrin, where he once had been there was a crater that would swallow a school bus.   From its bowels a constant stream of dust and dirt was spewing forth.  

Poor Sheryl, she has so much to learn.  Take some advice from your father-in-law.   No matter how much fire insurance you have on your new house, double it.

Yesterday I blew right through a stop sign without even slowing up.  Yikes! 

The problem is it wasn’t there last time I rode there and it’s not an intersection.  Just a side steet from one side and an uppity tennis and swim club on the other.

Apparently others were surprised and not happy about the sign either.

It’s already been spray painted.

I should also be forgiven due to the fact that I am such a fast rider that it takes two computers to track my speed.