Morning wake up with the light at 6, but that is too early. Still must settle the dreams, so turn on classical music and toss and turn some more.
Finally coffee and water and a view of the news on the internet. No longer watch the Today show because it is only promoting itself, besides I already heard all the news on NPR.
So does anyone have anything to say at 9 o'clock on a July Sunday morning? No much. The best giggle was a rum bash from the night before, but it is time for a ride.
The habit preparing has changed since I must now unlock the door that I innocently thought would not have to be. Strapping on the helmet and gloves while surveying the yard takes a different thought to lock up behind myself.
It was a long night so should I continue to my normal path or venture the Sunday path with new wheels? Am I ready for this new venture?
Out of habit or pushing myself to get back into a rhythm, I take the turn to the Sunday path. The ride was about the same yet still getting used to the new feel of the ride. The gyro seems right, but going downhill wobbles the presence. Maybe in the old age, going too fast is not my preference.
Still finding the correct gear, the way is clear with the same sights and sounds. The old Laundromat across from the Patterson Express is closed now, but there is a yard sale down the block. No police car at the church, at least that I can see.
I look at people carrying or riding bikes differently. I wonder what would I do if I saw one of my old bikes? What would have happened if I had been outside when that happened? Would I have been as I think I may have been?
The Park Avenue reminds me I need to get some biking shorts with some support. It has been awhile since I have ridden a bike without shocks and it does make a difference. At least that is what my boys say, so tomorrow, back to tweak the handlebars and get some more shorts.
Back home to dry off and check email, but first lock up the bike and the door to Mansland. It is a shame it had to come to this, but that's the way it is. Check Craiglist and classifieds in an attempt to find my lost friends, but I know better. I just have the option to frustrate myself.
After a bottle of water and some silly emails, it is time to figure what I will eat today. Yesterday was fruit (good) and crappy chicken (bad), so without being hungry, I must figure what to go to the store and purchase to prepare for the daily substance. Sandwich? No, don't want a bunch of bread. Soup? No it is too hot for soup. Burgers? No, don't want to grill. Salad? Hummmmm? Eating alone means making a little mess because it has to be cleaned up.
Still not hungry, I ride to the grocery store before church lets out to fill my packs with critter treats and beer.
Hydrate while watching the scurrying blurs of grey and brown in the yard. Still not hungry, I wander inside to an uncomfortable place to print out a cover for a CD to the wife of a friend of mine who passed away far too soon.
Finally settle on pizza. Can you survive on pizza and beer? We'll see.
Turn on lights and double bolt the doors. Listen quietly to the sounds outside.
And that's the way it is.