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“You should treat yourself to a ride today. It’s pretty spectacular out there.”

My lovely bride had already been out and about. I was sitting still and reading the morning news. But when your beloved encourages you to do a thing, you do a thing, and that’s how the personal revolution began today.

The first day of August is the academic’s traditional day of “What have I done with my summer?!?!” panic. The fall term comes into focus and there’s a lot to do, and it’s a scramble until May. But I’ve been doing some work of late, and today just didn’t feel like it. It was, I was told, pretty spectacular out there.

So I went to the library.

The local public library — which is staffed entirely by volunteers and open for 28 hours a week, but only 24 per week in the summer, which asks you to pay $2 for a card which is provided “Compliments of” a bank in a different town altogether — called yesterday to tell me they’d received a book I’d requested through the interlibrary loan.

Libraries, if you’ll let them (which is to say, if you go more than once) are magical places. But, really, the ILL system lets everything come to your library, even if you have but a small library in your town. About once a year, this time of year, I avail myself of the library for an easy fiction read. (Most things I read throughout the year are news, work-related or history. But there’s always something easy and/or breezy if you’re willing to be seen checking out such a thing.)

So I did that. I’ll read it this weekend, and the revolution will be over and it’ll be back to work on Monday. Or possibly Sunday evening.

I came home and, because it was spectacular, I treated myself to a bike ride. It was blue-gray out. The UV was only a 3. The temperature was 78. After I’d worked up a sweat it felt almost coolish outside. (This is different than the brief bout of cold you might feel with heat exhaustion. It was purely damp clothes, damp skin, and 20 mph winds.

There was one place where, on a straight road, I passed a house with a flag, a restaurant with parking lot flags, and a fire department with two flags. In that brief span, and it couldn’t have been any greater a distance than two city blocks, if you were in a city, the flags were blowing in three different directions.

It was not the fastest ride, but the one place I really tried I easily set a new Strava PR, so there’s that.

After that, it was time to go to the yard. It was time to pick up sticks from yesterday’s storm. Mostly it was just that, five-six, pick up sticks. The magnolia did fine.

But there’s a branch in another tree that will have to come down. Eventually. Somehow. It’s a little high up.

Our poor trees stand no chance in these winds. This weighs heavily upon me.

Then again, a lot does these days. How could it not?

We were trying to count, and we believe this is the fourth time we’ve seen Guster this year now. They just play around us a lot. Or, we are in a place where they do a lot of shows. If it is four times this year, then it’s seven times since we moved here. They’re close by, it’s a good show, so why not go?

It is important here to say I’ve seen these guys play, off-and-on, for more than a quarter of a century now. It’s become a joke, who has opened for them. They sell custom-shirts that they’ll print at the venue, so you can make yourself known as a hipster by signifying which Grammy-winner-to-be you saw with them. I think Jump, Little Children might have opened for them the first time I was able to catch a show. (Unless I’m forgetting an even earlier one.) All of which is to say, they are a fun band and they do terrific fan work and it doesn’t always sound exactly like their studio stuff. But, in all of those years, or the last four year shows this year, or any show I’ve seen of theirs in six or seven states, they don’t seem to do a lot of ad lib jams.

But, tonight, I just happened to be holding my phone at the right time for this little diddy.

Look how much fun they’re having! That may be the best part of the whole thing.

The Mountain Goats opened for Guster. This past year I’ve suddenly heard a lot about The Mountain Goats. When this show came up I thought I should learn about The Mountain Goats. But then I got distracted and, finally, I decided, just find out live. And I’m glad I did. I understand what everyone is talking about. I mentioned this on Bluesky.

Finally got to see @themountaingoats.bsky.social.

I understand what everyone was saying. I get it now.

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— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith.bsky.social) August 1, 2025 at 8:05 PM

One of the guys in the band wrote me back, right after the show was over. That was about the point when I was looking over their catalog: 22 studio albums, four compilation albums, three live albums, not to mention many EPs and demos that are floating around out there. That’s a lot to contemplate. I don’t think I need to be a completist here, but there’s not enough time in the day to learn where to pick up on something new that’s already so robust. (It’s concept albums everywhere and sequels decades on and so on.) Where to even begin?

And then the guy in the band gave me album recommendations.

So that’s nice. And just as soon as I get through three other musical stacks of things I’m doing … I’ll be doing this.

They’ll have pumped out nine more albums by then.

Anyway, we’re contemplating seeing them again Monday night, because they’ll all be close by again. And why not? Also, Monday, it’s back to work. And I’ll share one or two other videos from this show. (One including The Mountain Goats.) And then, Tuesday, it is working on campus. Meetings and everything.

And, Wednesday, I’ll start making syllabi. Then it gets real.

Unless it is pretty spectacular out again.

cycling / photo / Thursday — Comments Off
31
Jul 25

Storm riders

We’ve been reliably told — or so the weather reports would tell us — that the heat wave will break. The storms that rolled in this afternoon were pushed through by a cold front. That happened in the mid-afternoon, and the phones erupted with obnoxious sounds urging us to take action. And to also plug in and turn on the weather radio. (Note to self …)

I was standing over my lovely bride’s shoulder in her home office when this happened. So two phones in close proximity made great big wah-wah sounds. Tornado warning. And all the little towns and crossroads listed seemed relevant. Seek shelter now, and all of that.

So we went to the basement. Twenty-five months in this house, and that’s the first time.

We stayed down there about a half-hour, which was probably about 10 minutes longer than necessary. The local TV meteorologists have a large DMA to cover, and they seem to think that other communities also deserve attention. But, finally, between what they were showing and what I could see on the radar apps, the storm that suggested rotation passed over to the north and west of us.

Hopefully everyone is OK. Things look good for the most part, here. It rained all through the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, so we couldn’t do a complete inspection.

For now, I know this. I sure could go for some days in the 80s, and I’m not talking about the decade.

So maybe we’ll stop roasting. Or is it broiling? That all depends on the humidity settings. We did a bit of both this morning, when we went out for a quick ride. You know, before it got hot.

I have convinced myself that I don’t handle the heat as well as I used to. Or can do. It takes some habituation, and the other part of this is that I’m not particularly enthused by the idea of suffering through it to the extent necessary. What once felt like a badge of honor now just feels like There’s other stuff to do, too, ya know …

So after a time, I went slowly. Because of the heat. Yeah, that’s the ticket.

Somewhere in here — not here, but on this ride — I crossed 20,000 miles on my Specialized.

I’ve been saying that’s when I’ll spring for myself a new bike. But that means shopping. And analysis. And agonizing. This is not a hobby bereft of details. And people love their specs. I’d like to be over bike specs, but you can hardly avoid them to get the fit and function you’re after.

Also, this is expensive. Buying a bike is the fourth most expensive thing I’ve ever purchased, after my home, my car, and a pound of ground beef.

So if you want to help me shop, or start a GoFundMe …

cycling / Monday / music / photo / video — Comments Off
28
Jul 25

Tripping sillies

A quick shot from our Saturday afternoon bike ride. Not pictured is my lovely bride, who was way, way ahead of me by this point. It’s not a race, but it is a competition, you know? And, lately, I’ve been getting it handed to me.

Anyway, she’s up there somewhere. That was the first route we discovered when we moved here. It’s a solid 23 or 24 mile loop. And it’s been improved by a red light at a key intersection. This is also the route where the hub on my rear wheel shattered earlier this year. I looked down at the computer when I got to the spot. It was 10 miles into the ride. (I’m sure I knew that then, because I would have looked at the same computer, but who can remember these things in such granular detail?) That would have been a long way to walk home, but my lovely bride came back and picked me up. She was ahead of me that day, too, and don’t think I didn’t put all of that together in my head while I was struggling through a headwind.

There’s a place on that route where you’re going into a cross-headwind one direction, and you take two quick lefts, such that you are going 180 degrees the opposite of the direction from whence you just came. And when you do that, you just get a crosswind.

These breezes aren’t fair, is what I’m saying.

There was a concert, which I totally forgot about.

And a kids birthday party, which we totally forgot about. We put in a small appearance. They had a rope climbing course above us all. I did not get invited to take the climb, but someone did. Looked fun.

There was also a rail system in the ceiling which let you fly around in the air, a perpendicular superhero. Some people would stay up there all day. There were also wall climbing areas, and American Ninja Warrior-inspired leaping set ups. And, of course, video games. Upstairs was where the birthday party room was, and the kids that we went to see had a guy who was working on just his fourth party.

I asked him if he had any horror stories yet. He’s already seen some things.

The kids loved him, and that’s what counts. Except for the No Flipping rule on the trampolines, it seemed everyone had a good time.

Everything else is moving swiftly. I got a brief on a class I’m teaching in the fall. (Two more of those to go.) I have about six days of a second class to flesh out. Meetings start Wednesday. The stress and “Why aren’t syllabi things that magically appear in the middle of the night?” panic will begin soon after.

adventures / cycling / photo / Thursday — Comments Off
24
Jul 25

It starts with the next one

A great deal of weeding was done this week. Hours and hours of it, to be honest. So much so, that you can now smell the fragrant smells of some of the herbs (not pictured) you aren’t sure that you really want. The herbs that grow in such abundance you know you’ll never need them all. There aren’t enough recipes or neighbors for those things. But they smell like summer, and now they’re commanding the nostrils’ attention, a sensory system which was, until yesterday and today, previously overwhelmed by the site of so many weeds. But now the flower beds all look pretty grand.

There are also flowers to deadhead. And maybe I’ll do that one day. And then, in a week or so: the peaches.

But, first more heat, and a lot of it.

Went out for a bike ride this morning which was a great big ol’ bust. We set out to do my little 25-mile time trial, and I was so proud to introduce it to my lovely bride. Proud if for no other reason than that she didn’t know all of the turns, so she’d have to ride with me, rather than drop me in the wind somewhere. (She’s much stronger in the wind than I am.)

But we were about 10 miles in and I flatted. I glanced down to try to ascertain what was going on and at that same time, in front of me, she almost got whacked by a car coming out from the right. We’re sensitive to that sort of thing, as you might imagine. So she collected herself and went on … somewhere. I sat under a shade tree and replaced yet another tube. That makes five for the season.

And then I think I might have punctured the new tube on the way back in. I was too frustrated to check. All one must do is go out tomorrow, squeeze the back tire and mutter Belgian cycling oaths.

Look, I have a blessed life, exceedingly so, and I can’t really want for much. These, however, are the things I want for at the moment: to fall asleep at regular times consistently, to go one, maybe two whole months without having a service call at the house (looking at you, August and September) and to have maybe a dozen high quality bike rides in a row.

Starting, one hopes, with the next one.

cycling / memories / photo / Wednesday — Comments Off
23
Jul 25

Almost fast

I worked on a class meeting today. That means, if my notes hold up, one more day’s work is prepared — at least in brief. There’s always some refinement, some bright idea, some thing that has to tie in, or some other thing that has to carry over. These things, in my experience are never done. But if we can all leave a class with two or three things to really ponder and learn from, we’re doing something right.

Also, I have discovered my first meeting of the new term. It will happen next week, a full month before the term begins. And that’s how it begins, in dribs and drabs in the months when you are off the payroll. Funny, that.

I had a nice bike ride this evening. One of the better ones of the year, which I suppose makes up for the last several mediocre experiences and outright failures. Probably it is meant to carry over through the next several of each, as well.

Went out fast, and with a tailwind, apparently. And I worked so hard on the way back in to keep up the speed that I forgot to take a photo. So here’s a bit of asphalt, right at the end.

So that was an 18-mile outing, and I was done in an hour. You can do the math. Even I can do that math.

I recall reading somewhere years ago that, for amateurs (which needs the added superlative “very” in my case), riding 12-15 mph was slow, 15-18 was considered average, and 18-21 was fast. So this, then, was one of those brief times when I was approaching fast.

Also, when I got back in the measurements say the headwind was 13 mph. I’m terrible in the wind, so I must have gotten quite aero today.

You might recall that in April we had to do some work on the honeysuckle. It was growing over a trellis, but the trellis was rusting through. The trellis was rusting through because it was made of a cheap metal and that’s just the nature of cheap products. One time last year the wind got into the honeysuckle, which was top-heavy, and pulled the whole thing down. We carefully stacked it back up, put some pavers on the feet of the trellis to way it down and hoped for the best. And it worked. But, this spring, we realized that rusted metal doesn’t heal itself, so the old trellis had to come out, which meant we had to do some surgery on the vines, because it was woven in … about like you imagine vines would do. In extricating all of that, which was the best part of an afternoon, we found just how deep into the earth the old trellis’ post hoc anchoring went. The old owners of the house had sunk some metal rods into the soil, here where the heavy land and the green sands meet. Some of it was pretty cheap itself. But two of the pieces were honest-to-goodness rebar, and those were put in with enthusiasm.

All of that came out. The honeysuckle got cut back out of necessity and for shaping purposes, and I was a little nervous about the whole thing. For one, it’s a plant. And we’re stewards of the thing now and I’m a bit overmuch about that. For another, its honeysuckle, and it’s easy to want to cheer for something with this much character. Plus, it’s honeysuckle in a garden, over a trellis. And the triplets who lived here probably ran through that, hid behind it, and wondered why the flowers were so stingy with nectar. (This species is stingy with nectar.) And it is easy to be sentimental about that.

Sometimes we are haunted by our own ghosts, and the ghosts of others. It’s difficult to know which ones are the most welcoming, or the most distracting.

I remember saying aloud, “It’ll be fine. It is honeysuckle and you can’t kill this stuff.” I didn’t feel it, but I said it. And then I remembered something important a few days later, as we waited and hoped it would bounce back from a hard spring pruning: It is honeysuckle and you can’t kill that stuff.

And here it is today.

You can’t kill that stuff. But now we’ll find out if it can learn through that sort of stubbornness. I am trying to train it to grow over and down the other side of the trellis. We’re a little way over halfway there.

All of this makes me wonder what I might do if it wasn’t so hot out. Just the 80s today, but it’ll hit 93 tomorrow and the heat index for Friday is forecast to reach 110. I do not do as well in the heat as I once did, and I’m old enough to admit that to myself now.

But hey, the summer is the life for me. Except for the class prep. And the meetings.