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Apropos of nothing...
My life is complicated these days. So what else is new? :::shrug::: It just means I have to work a little harder at keeping my head quiet. Sometimes that's a good thing. It forces me to think hard on issues such as...
What kind of masochist cycles into the wind? I had to ask this of myself today, when I found myself fighting a headwind of about 25 mph. That's not much fun when your bike is a hybrid that pre-dates the lightweight aluminum frames (I plan to gift myself this summer with a brand new Trek hybrid with double-walled wheels, super-light aluminum/graphite frame and Shimano gears), but I love my Trek like an old friend. I've easily put a thousand miles on that bike.
Cycling into a 25 mph wind, though, that takes a special kind of dedication. It hurts like hell, and it's so frustrating to be pedaling at your normal cadence (I like between 60 and 70 RPMs) and hardly moving.
I stuck with it though, all the way to the end of the trail. And you know, the reward was I got to catch my breath, turn around, and zip back on the tailwind. It was totally worth it. :-)
This is random, but I think my favorite instruments are the oboe and the cello. Especially when they're played together. The oboe has such a friendly, sweet, warm voice, almost whimsical. The cello is a little darker, clear but throaty, sexy. They offset eachother so beautifully. I'm listening to Andreas Vollenweider's wonderful cd "Vox" and track eleven features a waltz duet with cello and oboe... it sounds like love.
More randomness... because it occurs to me that I'm a very lucky gal, to have found a person as (fundamentally) kind and as interesting and as silly as my husband, who daily reminds me that I haven't seen everything yet. We're approaching the eight-year point in our relationship, and complacency still hasn't set in. I find that amazing. Shakespeare wrote once (in some sonnet from some play which I remember imperfectly);
"This is my home of love.
I travel, I return
as easy I might from myself depart
Not from my soul
which in thy breast doth burn.
Oh, never say that I was false of heart.
For as the sun
Is daily new and old
So is my love..."
And that's all I can remember. But yeah, it's like that.
Enough! I have to get to bed. I must mail a very important package tomorrow. The "Love Wolves" are finally done (and the crowd goes wild) and I have to send them out ASAP. Some poor couple's marital bliss depends on it.
What kind of masochist cycles into the wind? I had to ask this of myself today, when I found myself fighting a headwind of about 25 mph. That's not much fun when your bike is a hybrid that pre-dates the lightweight aluminum frames (I plan to gift myself this summer with a brand new Trek hybrid with double-walled wheels, super-light aluminum/graphite frame and Shimano gears), but I love my Trek like an old friend. I've easily put a thousand miles on that bike.
Cycling into a 25 mph wind, though, that takes a special kind of dedication. It hurts like hell, and it's so frustrating to be pedaling at your normal cadence (I like between 60 and 70 RPMs) and hardly moving.
I stuck with it though, all the way to the end of the trail. And you know, the reward was I got to catch my breath, turn around, and zip back on the tailwind. It was totally worth it. :-)
This is random, but I think my favorite instruments are the oboe and the cello. Especially when they're played together. The oboe has such a friendly, sweet, warm voice, almost whimsical. The cello is a little darker, clear but throaty, sexy. They offset eachother so beautifully. I'm listening to Andreas Vollenweider's wonderful cd "Vox" and track eleven features a waltz duet with cello and oboe... it sounds like love.
More randomness... because it occurs to me that I'm a very lucky gal, to have found a person as (fundamentally) kind and as interesting and as silly as my husband, who daily reminds me that I haven't seen everything yet. We're approaching the eight-year point in our relationship, and complacency still hasn't set in. I find that amazing. Shakespeare wrote once (in some sonnet from some play which I remember imperfectly);
"This is my home of love.
I travel, I return
as easy I might from myself depart
Not from my soul
which in thy breast doth burn.
Oh, never say that I was false of heart.
For as the sun
Is daily new and old
So is my love..."
And that's all I can remember. But yeah, it's like that.
Enough! I have to get to bed. I must mail a very important package tomorrow. The "Love Wolves" are finally done (and the crowd goes wild) and I have to send them out ASAP. Some poor couple's marital bliss depends on it.
no subject
I've totally done that! Well, not so much in the wind, but in freezing rain and snow. I was soaked and freezing. Crazy cyclists unite! ;D
...and I never would have imagined your husband with long hair...
no subject
Yeah, Greg has real-life "stupid pretty pretty hair". :-)