Julia and I did another one of our marathon bike rides this morning, getting in 30 miles or so on a glorious day. The sun shone brightly, the shade was cool and lush, and the breeze wafted the scent of honeysuckle through the 70-degree air. It was a gorgeous way to spend several hours.
Unfortunately, my right knee does not seem to agree with my assessment. It is under the impression that we had a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. It has decided it does not like long bike rides. Actually, at the moment, it doesn’t like much of anything.
Rudi suspects my problem is Illiotibial Band Syndrome (ITBS), which is common for people who bike and run. It’s a sign of not keeping my toes and knees in alignment when I bike and of weak hip muscles, so I will have to work on both of those things (and buy something called a foam roller to loosen the tissue).
In the meantime, I’m going to go take some more ibuprofen and curl up with my ice pack.
I haven’t quite made up my mind if I’ll give you another Three Beautiful Things later from my own life, but right now everyone else’s lives have so much wonderful news that it can’t help but bump mine into secondary consideration:
1. Rebs’ second surgery is such a success and her recovery so good that some of the nurses think she hasn’t had it yet.
2. BW has been named Teacher of the Year for her school. She has had an amazingyear, and this is a well-deserved feather in her cap. This honor also puts her in the running for the statewide honor, which, personally, I think they should also give to her.
3. Shelley finally has word that she’s been accepted into med school. Her path has not been without its bumps, and a lesser woman might have turned around or sat down and wept. I think this bodes well for her being a terrific doctor that any patient would be proud to have tend to them.
I’m back in D.C. after a nice, relaxing weekend up in Connecticut with the family.
I spent much of the weekend, sitting in the sun with pink drinks. I knit and read and talked with my folks and Gramma. I sometimes forget how much I enjoy the sun. And I ate chocolate and raspberries (together!), although that part wasn’t until evening.
Dad and I played Scrabble. Dad generously allowed me to get away with playing “zoot,” which, it turns out, cannot be separated from “suit” and still be considered a word (slang and proper names — even of Muppets — not being allowed).
I spent the last two mornings curled up on Gramma’s couch, just hanging out in my pj’s. Unfortunately, of the three mornings I was there, today was really the first one where I was able to head downstairs at a reasonable hour with time to relax.
Mum calmly picked up pieces, as I, early in the morning, frantically rushed around with a nearly finished elephant (he’s a future blog post), half-eaten breakfast, and unwrapped presents trying not to be late for Karen’s baby shower. (Unfortunately, my own doubts about the computer-generated directions and my faith in an elderly man’s “shortcut” to the restaurant helped to thwart that goal.) Mum is at her best in a crisis, and my difficulty with deadlines and timeframes means I nearly always bring some unnecessarily frazzled moments careening onto her doorstep. She just steps into the fray and sorts things out, meaning I leave better prepared than I otherwise would.
Stopping to shop on my way back from the baby shower allowed me to miss the crazy storms that whirled through the region Sunday afternoon. The bikers parked under overpasses ought to have clued me in to the weather ahead of us, but it wasn’t until I encountered the traffic congestion caused by verges strewn with hail, streets covered with downed greenery, and the standing foot-deep puddles on the roadway that I realized what I’d just barely missed.
After a lovely barbecued lunch this afternoon, my new sneakers, cds, and I arrived at BWI, where Rudi had thoughtfully driven to pick me up. It was a great weekend. I was glad to be able to visit and I’m happy now to be home (particularly since I know the next visit is next month).
Pause the next time you think to yourself, “Wow, that garbage stinks. I should really take it out.”
It’s true; you eat a lot of fresh vegetables and you don’t have a compost bin or a garbage disposal. So, it could be your trash.
But is it possible it’s not the garbage at all? Could you be overlooking something crucial? Could it be staring you in the face?
Could it be that asparagus should, in fact, be refrigerated, even if it is standing in a cup of water? Could that stench possibly suggest that your vegetables are rotting on top of the fridge?
Think about it for a second and I think you’ll agree you might have missed something important…
It’s late and I want to go to bed, so I write quickly of three beautiful things from the past week:
1. I pedal to and from work several times a week in the nice weather. I am mostly riding in my top set of gears, even on the little inclines from downtown to Dupont Circle.
2. I lie on the bed with my arms in a semi-circle over my head. Jeremiah curls up in the arc they form and purrs contentedly.
3. Amani sends an email announcing her engagement. She stops by a few evenings later to show me the ring Marcus has given her. I’m delighted for the two of them, particularly since I remember the weekend they met.
So… it occurs to me that I’ve lived in D.C. for more than six years now, and there still remain a number of places that I’ve been meaning to visit all this time, but, for one reason or another, have not. Earlier this year, I crossed the Library of Congress off my list, but far too many still remain.
I feel like if I publicly announce what those things are I stand a shot of actually doing them. And maybe some of you will want to do them with me.
Here, in no particular order, are ten D.C.-area places I’d like to see or things I’d like to do:
Head up to Bengie’s for a triple feature on the nation’s largest drive-in screen.
Climb up to the top of the National Cathedral’s bell tower. (This one may have to wait until 2010, as it seems I’ve just missed this spring’s open tower event.)
He doesn’t do so well with this number anymore, so I can understand why he doesn’t perform it regularly. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss it at tonight’s show:
I know, I know! There are posts to be written, photos and stories to be shared. (And, in that spirit, feel free to listen to this week’s episode of Wait… Wait… Don’t Tell Me! Susan bought tickets and invited Julia, Sarah, and me to accompany her to the recording. I’ll can’t begin to guess how they squinched it down to an hour, but I can guarantee you’ll laugh at their antics.)
In the meantime, today is Rudi’s birthday and for his special day I want to clean the house. It’s a small apartment, which is the problem really. Or perhaps that we have too much stuff. Or that I have inherited my grandfather’s strong New England roots that dictate that anything that stops working should not be thrown out but, should, instead be preserved for days ahead when you might be able to fix/reuse/creatively change said broken item into something that does work and is usable. And, yes, I am aware that attitude works much better in a house with an attic, basement, and/or garage than it does in a tiny urban apartment. So I’m about to get down to it.
So, I’ll see you tomorrow, when it will be okay to return to stories. I hope none of them include scary things I unearth in today’s archeological dig…
And, if you’ve time, please stop by Rudi‘s blog and wish him a happy birthday. He’ll need it if he returns home before I’m done wielding broom, trash bag, and dust rag.
Howdy! It’s Thursday, I’ve had back-to-back evenings out with the girls, and it’s time to tell you about three beautiful things from the past week:
1. There are several times a year when I get to toast multiple people at a time. This eight-day period, though, tops the list. Sunday merited Mother’s Day phone calls to Mum, Gramma, and Jenny. And four times this week, I get to spend time thinking about dear friends — Eri on Sunday, Jenn yesterday, Kim today, and Rudi on Saturday. Thanks to them for having birthdays make this week an especially festive one.
2. There’s something about a perfectly blue skied Sunday that practically demands a road trip. Sarah agreed to play navigator and we headed north to Hyattsville in search of some yarn. The company was merry, the traffic light, and the tunes up-tempo, so I don’t think you could ask for a nicer way to spend an afternoon. Certainly, I couldn’t, except to note that the shopping also was a success.
3. Last night after getting home late from dinner and a movie, I decide to make dessert. I have whipping cream and rhubarb that needs using, so concocted a lovely pink fool. It was delicious, although next time I will use less orange juice when I poach the fruit.