Monday « Kenny Smith | Omnes hic sumus discere.

Monday

books / collarbone / IU / Monday / photo — Comments Off
3
Oct 22

Back to work

Back to work today. Catching up on meetings and the things I couldn’t do while working from home last week. Some things are virtual, some things you just need to be there. Fortunately, everyone has been understanding and most gracious with my absence last week. Family comes first, and that’s a nice perk.

I’ve worked places where that wasn’t the case.

I’d say this has been a great chance to slow down, except that everything seems to have sped up. But on Friday The Yankee’s mom came to town to see about her daughter and help out. That was a big morale boost. And this weekend she worked through those early days of surgical recovery. She’s also a week-on from the big crash, and so, on balance, she’s starting to move better.

On Sunday afternoon we all even took a walk.

When I got to the office I saw that the Poplars Building, which we’ve been documenting in this space since August, is now all gone.

They took that second half in a week. But you should see all the rubble that’s out of our view there. Maybe we can take a look at that this week.

Also, the leaves have started turning. Something about them seems off this year. Subdued somehow. Maybe I just caught it in poor light at the wrong time of day, and early in the turn.

There will be a few more days of opportunity to poorly demonstrate the leaf turn. I’m sure I’ll try.

I started, oh, almost two weeks ago now, reading Andrew Ritchie‘s Major Taylor: The Extraordinary Career of a Champion Bicycle Racer. I’m about 20 percent of the way through it now, but the beginning sets the stage. Late-19th century, a young black man rides a bicycle as well as anyone at the peak of American interest in cycling, both as a pastime, but also the sport.

“The fastest humans on earth.” Crazy, but it’s worth reminding ourselves to think in those terms.

Taylor was from Indianapolis, he’d moved with a mentor/employer to Massachusetts, and he’d signed with the League of American Wheelmen, the sport’s governing body of the time. He was 17 or 18 here.

Within the next year he’d be a world champion, and a world record holder.

He was, in fact, the first African-American world champion, of any sport. He died nearly penniless. He’s been all but forgotten outside of his adopted Worcester, Massachusetts, and some vibrant-and-growing cycling groups. Major Taylor will have a renaissance, you can just put your ear to the wind and feel it coming, on your left. His is an intriguing story.

adventures / Monday / photo — Comments Off
26
Sep 22

This is a recovery week – Monday

My lovely bride is mitigating pain, learning what doesn’t hurt and not moving much this week. I’m doing the chores and waiting to see how long it takes to test her patience. I’m worrying over her a lot is what I’m saying.

So there’s not much else going on right now.

But the weather is lovely. Enjoy this photo of the maple in the back yard. We sat on the deck for a few minutes, just to give her a change of pace. Apparently the wicker furniture isn’t entirely uncomfortable.

I’ll try to put a little something here each day, but it’ll be a light week.

And don’t forget: Catober begins this weekend.

books / Monday / photo — Comments Off
19
Sep 22

Rocket ship emoji

The hill of truth. It isn’t much of a hill, and what little there is is basically behind the photographer at this point, but for some reason getting over and around that curve tell you a lot about a ride.

Of course it was two-thirds of the way through my Saturday morning ride. All of its truths had been laid bare already. It was a slow start, as rides often are, and the burst off the first little roller wasn’t as sharp or as long as it usually is. The sprint I’ve been tinkering with, one long straight road that takes you from one neighbor to another, I didn’t even try. And then she ran off and left me.

I only saw her again after one of the turnaround points. And that is what happens when you have no legs on a 30-mile ride. You get dropped.

I can enjoy it. This was the biggest mileage week for me in the last few months. Not a lot, but plenty for the moment.

Maybe I can find more miles this week, or the week after.

Let’s do the weekly check-in with the kitties. They’re both doing great, thanks for asking. Phoebe spent a bit of time last night hanging out in the entertainment center for some reason.

Poseidon was more than happy to take a nap in the fuzzy blanket. When they cover their eyes like this I assume they are embarrassed about something going on around them. The only question is, by whom?

Probably his sister.

Finished the Thomas Cahill book, this evening. The barbarians invaded Rome. It all slipped away, slowly, then suddenly. Eventually literacy gained a foothold in Ireland. And then came Patrick, Columcille, and Colombanus.

It’s a light popular reading. So there’s not a lot of depth, but if you were looking for an entry-point into an important period of Irish history, this is a reasonable start. The book ends with this downer.

There are almost 8 billion of us now, last time I counted, so that at least gives us plenty of permutations and possibilities. And, if that somehow doesn’t work, there are always emojis.

IU / Monday / photo — Comments Off
12
Sep 22

Would you rather think on time or dragonflies?

Back to work today after a needed break. Took the week off. Oh, time. The sort of thing that you take when you need, and look forward to until you can take again. That sounds like I already miss the pool — and I do! — but I also miss not hearing an alarm in the morning. It’s the simple things, really, that are the most demanding work. Like waking up on time.

I’m already trying to plan my next off days. And presently there’s nothing on my calendar until November. That seems like an oversight. Seems like a long time.

It’ll take a few days to catch up at work, or an hour or two. It is all in the timing. So I rode my bicycle to work, and I made a new friend by the back door. This is a green darner (Anax junius) which is the most common dragonfly in North America. And I can tell you this guy, it is a male based on the coloring, has a different way of thinking about time than we do.

Wikipedia says you can find this in Mexico, Panama, the Caribbean, Tahiti, Japan and mainland China. (Spare a moment to think of the entomologists who have to collect and process this sort of information. Someone, perhaps several someones, have made this little guy their last work.) Apparently they are sometimes found in other places, too. It is believed strong winds can send them off their natural migratory courses. (Every once in a while that entomologist breaks out, and updates, the dragonfly map. What a Wednesday that must be.)

It is also the official insect of the state of Washington.

And those eyes will follow you everywhere. (That is actually the forehead.)

The more I studied it, the more I marveled at the bioengineering at play. And then I googled the darner’s lifespan. Seems like a great waste. That’s an awful lot of work for a creature that typically lives four to seven weeks.

But aren’t we all?

Somehow, after a week away, I thought that I would miss something at the old Poplars Building. The destruction has been going on — or not, as is sometimes the case — since the beginning of August. But, from our vantage point, it looks like they haven’t done anything since the beginning of September.

Not all work is visible, though, and that’s OK, too.

The good news is we didn’t miss out on whatever is in that central bit. I’m hoping it is cream-filled, or an easily torn-down elevator shaft. Or, perhaps, filled with dragonflies.

We didn’t run the site’s most popular feature last week, so we’re sorely overdue. Without dragging this out any further, let’s check on the kitties.

This very morning, Phoebe was sitting all casual-like by the bannister.

I’m always more interested in why they sit in the random places they do, than the random hijinks they get into. What made that quiet, semi-shaded spot the place to be this morning. On the other hand, I know why Poseidon got in this bag. It is in his nature.

Hilariously flailing away at getting out of the bag is also in his nature.

And here’s the rare shot of the two of them sitting together. Sorta.

They almost looked in the same direction at the same time. Almost. That takes a lot of time, too.

adventures / Alabama / cycling / family / Monday — Comments Off
5
Sep 22

Happy Labor Day

We had a short bike ride on Saturday morning, dodging raindrops until I couldn’t. I wanted to get in a quick 20 miles to reach the next round number for the year. (All of the records are falling this year!) And in the early going we went by this familiar corn field, which almost made it to Labor Day before turning.

And then, up the street and up a few hills, The Yankee was creating some big distance. See the little red dot on the side? I had to cover all of this ground to get her wheel again.

Eventually I did, and then we rode together for a while. She turned for the house and I added on a few more miles to get to that goal, and then found myself in the rain. It was foreshadowing.

We got in the car, pointed south and drove through every storm cloud that a third of this great nation can provide. My car hasn’t been this clean, nor my shoulders this tense in the car, in some time. This is just the beginning.

You know how, sometimes, you people stop under an overpass? When my wipers were going full blast and I was slowing down to about 35 on the freeway to let them keep up, it seemed like a good idea.

I always liked overpasses in the rain. That constant rattle on the roof interrupted, however briefly, by a bit of human engineering. It can be a sudden and stunning change, and then just as quickly, the rain returns, because the overpasses are only a few lanes wide. Sometimes you want more overpasses, I guess, if only to park under them.

We did not wait out the weather, but pushed on carefully through. And one of our rewards was this site.

You can almost see it there, but in the heartbeat before I took this photo, and those trees in the foreground crept in the way, you could actually see the place where the rainbow was hitting the ground. It wasn’t off in the distance, or beyond a hill. It was right there. I did not see the pots of gold, however. It is a busy interstate, maybe someone beat me to it.

We made it to my mom’s for a nice little vacation. We had dinner there Saturday night, and a quiet Sunday. Today my grandfather and a great-aunt and great-uncle came over for dinner. This was the first time I’ve seen my aunt and uncle since before the pandemic began. They were, and are, a hoot.

I could tell you stories, but it is a light week here, and you’d need to know them and hear them, anyway. But I will jot this down, just so I can remember it. Someone was telling a bit of a family story and my great-uncle didn’t hear who was the subject of the story. He said, “Who?” He heard the name. There’s a half beat where the name sinks in and you can see the gears readjusting to the new information. And then the man, who is in his 80s, giggled. It was him and them and perfect.