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Seattle and Portland, Here I Come
Mar. 26th, 2008 08:46 amOr, rather, Here I Go...from Seattle to Portland.
Oh, I'm so witty in the mornings.
I have just signed up for the 2008 Seattle to Portland bike ride in mid-July, my second such adventure. I'm thinking I'm going to go up to Seattle a bit early beforehand to traipse about town, and most importantly, to buy a bunch of berries to turn into delicious jam for the year, because let's face it: Arizona doesn't grow berries. I've also decided to stay an extra day in Portland to see the sights. Should be fun--woo!
Other than that, there isn't much excitement to report, other than last night's wacky adventures. Okay, I take that back: there's the usual level of excitement to report. Here goes, in two parts:
I. Trailers and Typewriters
A guy who occasionally goes on a Tuesday night bike ride asked about my bike trailer on Monday, so I told him I'd bring it for the Tuesday ride so he could see how it's built. But if I'm going to go to the trouble of hitching up the trailer, I'd better put something in it as well, right? So I cast about my house, and finally settled on bringing my typewriter, because it has been sitting in the corner all sad and neglected, and it looked like it could use some fresh air.
Well, let me tell you, that thing isn't exactly light, but it sure was fun typing up a note and some bicycling haikus when we got to our destination, the Orange Table. I'm sure I was a wacky sight as I typed away, still wearing my helmet and dorky reflective vest. But then again, when am I not a wacky sight?
II. The Mad Dash
When I got home, I left my door open for a bit to let out some hot air from baking, keeping the usual watchful eye on Ms. Emma. Well, wouldn't you know it, after many months of carefully establishing that she is to stay indoors, last night Ms. Emma bolted out into the yard, presumably in pursuit of another cat (it was dark, so I couldn't really tell). I shrieked "EMMA!" to no avail, and after a few minutes of fuming and waiting I went outside to see if I could figure out where she had gone. It wasn't long before I heard some plaintive whining and cries from behind the neighbor's fence: she'd hopped the fence in her mad dash and couldn't figure out how to get back over it. Dumb cat. I went around to the other side of the house with a flashlight, but the back yard was enclosed and I felt a bit awkward about jumping the fence after my cat (how would I get back out with a cat in my arms?). Finally I was able to coax Emma back to a spot where a board was missing in the fence, and then pulled her through and put her back in the house. But man, she's in big trouble now. No more outdoor adventures for that kitty.
Oh, I'm so witty in the mornings.
I have just signed up for the 2008 Seattle to Portland bike ride in mid-July, my second such adventure. I'm thinking I'm going to go up to Seattle a bit early beforehand to traipse about town, and most importantly, to buy a bunch of berries to turn into delicious jam for the year, because let's face it: Arizona doesn't grow berries. I've also decided to stay an extra day in Portland to see the sights. Should be fun--woo!
Other than that, there isn't much excitement to report, other than last night's wacky adventures. Okay, I take that back: there's the usual level of excitement to report. Here goes, in two parts:
I. Trailers and Typewriters
A guy who occasionally goes on a Tuesday night bike ride asked about my bike trailer on Monday, so I told him I'd bring it for the Tuesday ride so he could see how it's built. But if I'm going to go to the trouble of hitching up the trailer, I'd better put something in it as well, right? So I cast about my house, and finally settled on bringing my typewriter, because it has been sitting in the corner all sad and neglected, and it looked like it could use some fresh air.
Well, let me tell you, that thing isn't exactly light, but it sure was fun typing up a note and some bicycling haikus when we got to our destination, the Orange Table. I'm sure I was a wacky sight as I typed away, still wearing my helmet and dorky reflective vest. But then again, when am I not a wacky sight?
II. The Mad Dash
When I got home, I left my door open for a bit to let out some hot air from baking, keeping the usual watchful eye on Ms. Emma. Well, wouldn't you know it, after many months of carefully establishing that she is to stay indoors, last night Ms. Emma bolted out into the yard, presumably in pursuit of another cat (it was dark, so I couldn't really tell). I shrieked "EMMA!" to no avail, and after a few minutes of fuming and waiting I went outside to see if I could figure out where she had gone. It wasn't long before I heard some plaintive whining and cries from behind the neighbor's fence: she'd hopped the fence in her mad dash and couldn't figure out how to get back over it. Dumb cat. I went around to the other side of the house with a flashlight, but the back yard was enclosed and I felt a bit awkward about jumping the fence after my cat (how would I get back out with a cat in my arms?). Finally I was able to coax Emma back to a spot where a board was missing in the fence, and then pulled her through and put her back in the house. But man, she's in big trouble now. No more outdoor adventures for that kitty.
