Whew! Last night was a little scary, with a tornado warning and massive thunderstorms...all part of that killer storm that started out in Texas. I had the basement door open and ready as a refuge and lit the oil lamps.
We were very fortunate here in my town, but there were 7 deaths in our area. God help the survivors in Gloucester, Virginia and northeastern North Carolina.
God's mercies are new every morning. Today dawned a fresh spring day with blue, blue skies. I headed to Starbucks on my bike. I don't think I've mentioned lately here how much I love my vintage red bike with the basket in the front. Forget about high-tech mountain bikes, stupid biking shorts, gears, speeds, making time...none of that works for me.
Just give me a pair of jeans and a hoody sweatshirt. Let me peddle at my own pace, stopping to look at lovely gardens or porches with white wicker or gingerbread architecture out front. I want to take pictures of the Craftsman-style cottage and surrounding fence, created with little round stones. The cottage and the fence both have the stone finish. Hansel and Gretel live there, not sure if you heard about that. Want to see it? Follow the trail of bread crumbs.
I don't care if the cool peeps in the Portsmouth Riding Group pass me by at all. I see no reason to dress up like a court jester to ride my bike, let's just start there.
Secondly, no offense to all men who love biking shorts, but I don't need to be able to see whether you are circumcised or not. C'mon, you're not Lance Armstrong, you're just the former assistant city manager taking a bike ride on Sunday morning. To be honest, men in bike shorts (and Speedos for pity's sake) all look like they're trying to smuggle plums. TOO MUCH INFORMATION. Go to Europe, they love that kind of thing.
So I pedaled in my modest fashion (but still got my heart rate up there) wending my way along Constitution to Peninsula to Spratley to Navy Avenue to Crawford to North to Starbucks. Please note that there are no trendy names along the way containing words like Trace, Arch, Trail, or Crescent, instead of Street, Drive or Avenue, nor any neighborhood where all the street names are kinds of trees. And none of the houses have two-story Palladian windows. Just sayin'
So I had my vente three equal sugar free vanilla latte thanks to a sweet friend who put so much money on my Starbucks card (for my birthday) that it made me blush and read the New York Times. This is Sunday afternoon for me this time of year. I think it is pretty swell.
