We saw this sign and sent it to a friend. Now she wants to put it on the back of her wheelchair. You have to respect the sense of humor that people put in their own lives.

What could put someone more at ease than seeing you whip around a wheelchair and seeing that on the back? This is a person determined to enjoy their day. Let’s enjoy the day, too.

The problem with authentic outdoor signage is that they are meant to be seen from a distance. Viewed from a roadway. Perhaps at speed. And you think, I’d love to have that. Put it right up in the house, along that one wall. You know the wall.

The problem is, they might not fit. Or they might dominate the room more than you’d hope. You never think of this if you’re driving by, but if you see one in a habit in the great indoors, you are reminded. We ducked into this gas station for a snack and there, off to one sign was this gorgeous old weather-beaten thing.

How would you even all that around if the sign owner did give it to you? That one barely fits beneath the gas station ceiling.

I don’t know anything about cognac, but a quick search has convinced me the makers are still in business. I’m guessing whatever store that displayed this lovely old bottle sign has long since gone. I wish there was a little note that shared more about it, but maybe it is enough that you can touch it.

I touched the bottle sign.

Oh, I forgot to say, if you’ve enjoyed the food you’ve eaten this week … if you’ve eaten this week … thank a farmer. I don’t know what all the people that work this corner of God’s soil do, and where it fits in, but you’re never more aware of the interdependence of things than when you stop to think about how it works together. Then you can’t help but be impressed.

On average, U.S. farmers plant about 90 million acres of corn each year. Most, about 40 percent, is used as the main energy ingredient in livestock feed. You might not eat the grain in these silos for a variety of reasons.

It could be because the corn you enjoy comes from the heartland, or just closer to you in general. Even more likely, the grain that goes into those giant containers sitting out there in a quiet November sunset are grown for livestock. (You enjoy a different variety than the kept animals do. I could go into this, but I would have ag econ flashbacks.)

Anyway, it’s an impressive system, sometimes held together precariously, but there are always some hardworking people involved at the root and fruit, meat and peat, and salt and pepper levels of the system. Some of them have worked the land for generations. Some work it for corporations. Some are working it for their future generations, as a part of international relations.

Be thankful for that, too.

These were photos from the end of what was probably my last outdoor ride of the year. I titled it “I need it to warm up; no way that’s the last outdoor ride,” because it was not a good ride. But it won’t be warm soon, and so I took my bike down to the basement, where it will sit on the smart trainer and, starting soon, pedal me through several months and many miles on Zwift.

April 9th was my first ride outside this year. November 26th was probably the last one. Some seasons are just too short.