We’re enjoying the rain.
“What kind of idiot are you?” Those used to be fighting words. Now they just sound like another Buzzfeed quiz.
- Though it’s too late for us. Yet, when discussing her name’s fate with her, Ashley seemed quite comfortable with it. ↩
Two months in and I’ve already biked farther than I did in the first half of last year. Woo hoo!
My February Bicycling Accomplishments
- I biked to work almost every day I worked in Hillsboro. I skipped one day because I drove Jamison and some others to an engineering field trip later in the day. And, well, I drove a couple more days because there was a lot of snow in the neighborhood, snow on the bike lanes, and too much traffic to want to take the lane. And I didn’t bike the day Heather and I went to the beach earlier this week. And I worked in Folsom a couple of days. And February is a short month to start with. Huh. I’m starting to wonder whether I biked at all this month… ;-)
- The first day it snowed, I biked. Most people stayed home. I probably should have. It was an exercise in balance getting out of the neighborhood. The bike lanes were covered with snow. But there was virtually no traffic, so I just rode in the lane. Maybe three cars passed me in two miles — wondering who that idiot was riding his bike to work. Ha! :-D
|Distance||Time / Bike|
|133 miles||Biked in February 20141|
|312 miles||Biked in 20142|
How is your 2014 so far on the bike? Or are you waiting for warmer, dryer, less frozen weather?
“You’re my favorite Ashley.” Me
“You’re my favorite Heather.” Me
“You’re my favorite Melissa.” Me
“You’re my favorite Jamison.” Me
Yes, I tell our kids they are my favorites. And I might pause slightly after “favorite” but it will be accompanied with a wink — and no comma. After all, I don’t want our kids to think I favor one over the others. Instead, our kids know they are my favorite Ashley, Heather, Melissa, and Jamison.1
And our kids are smart — smart enough that I’ll hear in response:
“You’re my favorite Dad.”
Nope. No pause. No comma. Touché!
- With apologies to all the other Ashleys, Heathers, Melissas, and Jamisons out there. I’m sure you understand. ↩
Today we said farewell to our 2001 Honda Odyssey.1 This car took us to the store, to school, to work, and to church. It took us to visit friends and family. It hauled our kids to and from college.2 It transported us uncountable times to Champoeg Park and Cannon Beach. We learned how to load a car top carrier and a trailer hitch bike rack so it could haul all our gear for family vacations.
We are not looking to immediately replace it. Suzi and I will try a low-car life style.3 Since early last year, I have commuted almost exclusively by bike, having been stopped only by a broken spoke and deepish snow.
At one time, my brother and I both had brown Honda Odysseys and silver Honda CRVs.4 Looks like that era is over. His CRV has been replaced and now our Odyssey is gone. Maybe he can get a pretty, sage green, bike — just like mine. ;-)
- Suzi was disappointed we didn’t get to 300,000 miles. But we got close at 295,502. Thank you, Suzi, for snapping the pictures as they prepared to haul it away. ↩
- One year, I made the trip ten times! ↩
- Well, as much “low car” as we can be with all four kids having their own cars. But Suzi and I will share one. ↩
- Our Odyssey keys even fit in each others’ locks, but the smart chips didn’t match so we could only open each others’ cars, not drive them away. ↩
I’m not an Alaska MVP this year, thanks to my lack of loyalty to a single airline and not traveling to Asia last year. Instead, I get to board with everyone else and don’t get the preferred seats near the front. Regardless, when checking in, I found I could move forward and get a window seat. Because it was an early morning flight, I decided to sit on the left and watch the sun rise. It was a good choice; had I chosen the right side, I would have seen only clouds as I looked down upon southern Oregon.
Looking out plane windows never gets old for me. How about you? Do you prefer the windows or the aisle?
Feathery frost coated the car’s windows this morning.
Newspaper? I have no idea how that newspaper got shredded. I’m just lying here.