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photo / Thursday — Comments Off
21
Aug 25

Nothing to it, really

I woke up precisely when the alarm went off. Ready to go. Awake. There are sometimes differences in how you wake up. Sometimes you’re awake, alert to the hum of the universe. Sometimes you can go right back to some deep stage of nocturnal coma without an effort.

Lately I’ve discovered a manner of waking up, fully aware of all of the works of poetry and physics man has devised and deciphered, my brain alert with the knowledge of all of it — at least that it exists, not that I have the capacity to retain it or understand it all, mind you. But, then, I turn over and go right back to sleep. All of that heft and conscious living going on in my brain and then, suddenly, it’s two hours later. Two hours later than you’d intended.

Nothing to it. You just roll over and close your eyes, but not too tightly.

Saw the neighbors. Feed the deer. Talked with a sweet old lady who is about to move. Her house goes on the market tomorrow. She has mixed feelings about it all. The neighborhood will miss her dearly. She’s one of the pillars, one of the stalwarts, a founding member of the officially unofficial neighborhood watch.

She told me today that when she started working they were so hard-pressed for teachers that they were putting people with two years of classroom experience into schools. She had colleagues that taught all day and then went to night school to complete their degree. This was the 1970s, and a decade or so into a population boom. There are a lot of stories in there, you can just tell.

Anyway, there’s not much else here, because I spent most of the day just staring at a screen, willing things to come into existence. Not a lot of luck on that front, unfortunately.

Nothing to that, either. You just sit there and wait, again, with your eyes not too tightly closed.

Here’s a little clump of weedy grass that found its way through the cement, and is enjoying some rain drops.

Mild gray day. Breezy. The sort of day that comes with its own charms, and as such deserves our attention. The sort we all need to be able to take in at the drop of a hat.

And instead of doing that, I spent it getting not enough work done.

Well, that’s why we have tomorrow. There will be something to that, surely.

photo / Wednesday — Comments Off
20
Aug 25

Can’t spell corporate speak without C-A-T

Committee meeting today. Subcommittee, let’s say. Did we solve all of the problems of the world? No. Did we pave the way for a perfectly efficient year ahead? No. Did we identify critical areas to once again address? You bet we did. Are there just as many questions at the end of the day as there were at the beginning? No, for in our intense efforts to create the glide path for a perfectly efficient year flexing our synergistic cross-departmental assets and maximizing our efforts to minimize discomfiture, we project a high ceiling for the year, where we will leverage corporate buzzwords and digital assets to … something or other.

I asked the cats about it, but they refused to take the meeting. Some fussy excuse about needing to be on the site. So let’s get to them, as they are, after all, the most popular feature here.

The return of Super Phoebe!

She hasn’t done that in a while, so it was a real afternoon treat to have her sit with me like this. It’s great for belly rubs, which may as well be my raison d’etre from her perspective. The best part is when she’s done, she does this twisting corkscrew thing and heads back to the floor, front feet-first. It is quite graceful, as cats often are.

Poseidon does not have superhero poses. But he will cuddle any part of you he can reach.

That’s my raison d’etre from his point of view.

It’s a living.

So the cats are doing great. And we all hope you are, too.

cycling / photo / Rowan / Tuesday — Comments Off
19
Aug 25

Making you wonder about the efficacy of bungee straps

I finished the last big lecture in my newly designed course. The course is finished. Now I have to only assign groups, write prompts for the midterm and final, make two other small decisions, and do daily prep throughout the term. So that I might, you know, actually run the course.

That’s the other thing about creating a new class. You’re not done until the final is in sight. But anyway, foundation, framing, walls, roof, shingles and all of that are now in place. Its a class we can live in for three-and-a-half months.

Anyway, I can put that behind me for a while, and focus on the other class. And also tomorrow afternoon’s committee meeting.

I forgot to add this poor quality video to yesterday’s post. The video isn’t great, but DailyMotion makes it worse. (I need a better video hosting option.) Anyway, these deer were out in this big field that’s sandwiched between a state highway and this little side street I took. They ran along side me for much of the thing, which was charming. Eventually I thought, I should pull out my phone and that was just before the deer thought, “We should turn left!” They didn’t come close to me, of course, they were trying to get away from me. But here’s me shooting a video and getting a firm grip on the front brake at the same time.

I had an even better encounter on today’s ride. Though I might have messed up her stride.

I did the thing today where I had a slight idea of the route I wanted to take, but then I changed it all up, mid-ride. This is maybe my second favorite kind of ride. The only thing better than spontaneity over known roads is deliberately setting out to find new and unknown roads. But, anyway, I went to town, doubled back through some heavy sprint zones and then turned left at one of the crossroads that also has a name that also ends in town. In about six pedal strokes I was outside of that town, and pretty soon saw two cyclists ahead of me. Or was it one? No, two. Maybe actually just the one. Nope, two. Definitely two. That’s what a couple of hills and blurry glasses will do to things way down the road.

I caught them on the second hill, a man and a woman. Both riding with blinkies and brightly colored shirts. The guy looked perfectly comfortable, like he was just riding alongside his companion, and she was having a little tougher time of it. I called out to them as I pulled alongside. The usual stuff. Great day for a ride! Except for this hill, right? Well, gotta go, have a safe one!

Then I pushed on, and they did not follow. I took a right, and the road opened for another big high-intensity push, and this view.

So I’m cruising along at 22 miles per hour and trying to remember if I remember this road. There are two — or is it four? — roads that cut across in this area and some of this looks familiar, but maybe I missed the landmarks I’m thinking of because I had my head down, or I was hypoxic.

Anyway, the road ended as expected, I turned to the right, as planned, and then set off on a three-hour adventure to the red light that was up ahead, visible for the duration, and still three, make that six hours away. Took forever. So much for those two big sprinty roads I’d just enjoyed.

Basically I’m doing parts of other routes in reverse, so all of the sensations are backward. What should be a slight descent to a riverbed is now the most interminable false flat road engineers have ever devised. And then this red light, which never changes. And then some more time with my nose in the wind. And so on.

The advantages of being in the wind is that you go slow. And also, it is demoralizing. But, occasionally, you see something that’s fallen off a car or truck or tractor, which means you might stop, or turn around and investigate. And today’s roadside find is curious, and maybe useful?

What even is that hook? It is sort of like an U-hook, but not. Sort of like a closed face, but not. You can see how it might have fallen off a truck bed. I don’t know what it can be used for, but fortunately I have an entire shelf in the garage dedicated to “Tie downs and other stuff I don’t know what it can be used for.”

Most of that shelf is bungee straps. You find a lot of bungee straps on the side of the road.

adventures / cycling / photo / Rowan — Comments Off
18
Aug 25

Do not remove, in parts or in toto

Much progress was made, for a workday, for a Monday. I finished the notes and slides for a key lecture. One more of those and this particular class will be all but set. Which is great because the fall term is hurtling toward us quickly. So I am motivated, and wide-eyed, looking at those deadlines. I’ll wrap this up tomorrow. And then I’ll start work on finished the prep for my last class. Fortunately, all the materials are gathered, and I have good help to get it done. It’s just a matter of doing the eye-squinting part of finishing it, and polishing the product.

I’m still finding typos in things for this other class. And while that is mortifying — even as it is, at present, intended for an audience of me — I am making my peace with it. I’m just never going to consistently punctuate bullet points correctly. If you’re wondering if you do it right, and we all wonder, well, it is complicated.

I don’t want to say I’ve fallen into the “What does it matter” camp, but I do understand the allure of the “They’re bullet points, what does it matter” argument. There’s a difference there, and you’d do well to distinguish between the two. If you’re having difficulty in doing so, I have spelled out the argument in the following:

Just kidding.

Saturday afternoon, after my pretty decent little Friday night ride, we went out for another. She said she was up for an easy ride. And this is part of what that looked like. See her? Up the road?

I think this is about as far back as she got from me. Also, I’m not sure where that shade was, but today’s route needed more of it. I was tired and it was hard, not easy, and also warm.

When I did catch back up to her, I did not go way up the road, but rode alongside, trying to grab a good shot for the socials.

Sunday, I saw this. Please read the sign. And please do not remove.

You know, right away, they’ve had problems with that. You wonder how many times they’ve had that problem, that finally motivated the addition to the sign. You wonder how it was removed. Did people push the cart away? Did they tie it to their bumper and drive it away? And what’s the top speed on an oversized cart of this sort, anyway? What’s the lead on your rope or chain? And can it hold up to a sharp right turn?

Alas, a closer look will show you they’ve taken further anti-theft measures.

Or, else, the local prankster is thumbing his nose at the sign one part at a time.

I saw that as we were on our way to a swim. My lovely bride found a 5K swim to do, and I found some shade to sit in. Here she is, looking over the start of the course. Apparently, it was a swim around that little island out there.

Anyway, she did it, emerging pleased with the course, the ability to see the buoys after a mid-day (rather than an early morning) start. That was her longest swim in a couple of years, prior to her big bike crash. So she spent the rest of the evening rubbing her shoulder. Also, we basked at the local creamery.

And then, today I worked. This evening, so pleased was I with my progress, that I went out for a ride in 69-degree temperatures. It was overcast and pleasant and I timed this one just right, getting back right before darkness landed on the road in front of me.

Did you know you can ask Siri for sunset times where you are? That comes in handy for evening rides, as it was for this 23-mile effort.

Now, to work on another lecture …

cycling / Friday / photo — Comments Off
15
Aug 25

When in doubt, pick the faster meal

This is a story about a boy and his bike. Because it was a delightful day. Because I had to go outside, or risk growing into my office chair. Because I’ve pretty much bored myself with to tears with trying to find new ways to discuss the work and sometimes-confidence-sometimes-anxiety that comes with creating a class out of whole cloth.

But when I closed my computer today I knew I was just two lectures away from being through with this class design. I also feel like I’ve been saying that for weeks. But then I sat down and made a list — for the sake of accuracy, I was already sitting when I started that list — and realized there were several things to do. But now it’s down to three things, which is really five things, but could technically be seven things, and two of those are these last lectures. So Monday. Maybe Tuesday. Because I think I’m taking the weekend off from all of it. I think I need it.

Of course I’ll be back at it tomorrow. Or by Sunday afternoon.

Anyway, this evening I set out for a bike ride. It was a lovely one, and so I went down the road and through one of three towns in the immediate area with town as a suffix. (And two of them, while charming in their own ways, are overstating the case.)

I had the added benefit of a late start, so that everyone was already where they needed to be, always a concern in that bustling metropolis of 487 people. The English got there late in the 17th century, and I guess it has always been some kind of sleepy, especially on Friday nights.

But the views are lovely.

I turned left at the river and continued on one of our usual routes. Their good for this time of day. We are at a latitude where we are already in that dark-comes-in-a-hurry time of year. Sure, roads get predictable when you’ve been on them four or five dozen times, but you want to know exactly what you’re getting into. You want to be able to pace your ride as necessary. You want to be able to make changes if things aren’t going just right. And, always, you’re thinking about where the point is that you can have a flat or other mechanical problem, fix it, and still get back home.

You don’t want to throw in a lot of variables when you’re racing daylight.

That bridge, an overpass, has been closed for a while. I’ve been over it twice since they shut it down. I’ll just weave around the barriers and …

OK, they’ve hardened this up a bit. I could hop the barrier, but despite having gone through the barrels and past at least two road closed signs, climbing over that seems like it would remove any appeals to my ignorance.

I’m sure the bridge could hold me, but they’ve made it clear they don’t want me to go over there.

So here’s the thing. I’m 11.5 miles in. I’m racing daylight. I have, when this bridge is in service, four possible variations back home, each making a completed ride of 16, 16.5 or 20 miles. But I can’t go that way because of my pretending like road closures apply to me, too. So I have to retrace my steps. And if I do that faithfully, which I did, that of course means 23 miles.

Easy quiet roads, though, so that’s good. I had my blinkies, so that’s good. The most important thing, in fact. I did not, however, carry my headlight, which isn’t really a problem. I knew I’d be back before I needed extra light to see the way in front of me.

Anyway, this was the view behind me at one point. It’s a bit fuzzy, as I was shooting over my shoulder at about 20 miles per hour, but the colors aren’t bad. That’s one well-tended field there, let me tell you.

Only the last two minutes or so, when I was inside the subdivision, did it get dark. Two neighbors who were walking did not expect to see me. I apologized as we met. They laughed it off. My lovely bride was waiting for me, in The Pose. She was unhappy with my timing, but, then I hadn’t yet told her about those unanticipated extra seven miles. In fact, I should have just gone out 15 minutes earlier.

We have agreed upon roads for night rides, and I was only on one of them, and that right at the end, and just before it became truly dark. So as she stood there, arms crossed, making a big show of patting one arm with the other hand, she said I could make it up to her by deciding what we’d have for dinner tonight.

By way of apology, I chose the sweet-and-sour chicken.