So, I'll start with a quick picture of Kit and myself at Bernice's this morning. I almost cropped the top portion of the picture, but the handyman deserves a little attention - his facial expression says it all. (Though he has been caught smiling at little bundles of joy in the past, it is a special occasion almost as infrequent as the sighting of a dodo or ivory-billed woodpecker or some other such rare bird.)
And, as the title suggests, there is a tandem bicycle in my life.
It is no secret that I was quite wary of bicycles until recently - everyone knows I'm terrified beyond all reason or logic. As the scenery rushed past me and my yellow cruiser during the first days I owned my bike, every push of the peddle brought me closer to the patch of oil or distracted driver or faulty street light that was surely going to be the demise of both me and my cycling career.
No disaster occurred, and a year later, I can actually breath deeply while riding even though I'm more cautious than I suspect I need to be.
But, then there's the "divorcycle." No, the handyman and I are not bethrothed and not planning any such occasion, but the tandem has earned much cursing with this particular nickname. Maybe I will share some of the funnier, more embarrassing moments later, but for now I will conclude this post with the season's first ride on the tandem.