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friends / memories / photo / Tuesday — Comments Off on Two of the things here are reaching their potential
28
May 19

Two of the things here are reaching their potential

One of our friends and former students came back to town:

Dominick and I had lunch at the new pizza joint. We spent the afternoon catching up and telling tales out of … well … school. He’s been gone for a year, studying out west and doing great things in the universe.

I beat him, once again, at foosball in a not too demanding best-of-seven series. The last three series have gone to, well, me.

Not that I’d remember something that happened a year ago:

Speaking of remembering, if you’ll recall last Friday I mentioned a flower that’s flowering in the backyard. It has now reached its potential and it’s lovely:

One day I might too!

books / cycling / Instagram / Monday / photo / video — Comments Off on Happy Memorial Day
27
May 19

Happy Memorial Day

Below there’s a bit of a video from the end of a Saturday morning ride. I got in a good 34-miles before the day really warmed up.

I forgot to shoot video on the good part of this morning’s ride, the part with snappy pace and wide-open views, so you’re treated to the back-in-the-burbs “I’m ready to stop moving” part of the effort.

I spent the rest of Saturday just sitting in the recliner reading. It was great. This will make you think: nothing is probably ever as new as we think it is. This was a part of the state of things turning into the 20th century.

That’s from my office desk book. (As opposed to my bedstand book, my Kindle books, my car book or my office desk books, or the entire, and stuffed full, bookcase of Books-To-Read.) This is the one I read sections of when I need to take a break to read something in short installments. It’s a good book. Check it out.

Friday / photo — Comments Off on We’re going to have a flower!
24
May 19

We’re going to have a flower!

Off the back deck …

Enjoy it while you can, I said to myself, and then I did, and then I went back inside. It was dinnertime, after all.

history / photo / Wednesday — Comments Off on On water on the ground and in the river
22
May 19

On water on the ground and in the river

Mid-late May is far, faaaaar too early for the first fallen Maple leaf of the year. It hasn’t even been warm yet!

It’s been damp a lot, though. You can tell because the creek is threatening the banks. Of course it could do that if there’s an abundance of humidity.

The maple leaf was in our driveway this morning. The little stream is on campus, winding through the beech and maple. They call it the River Jordan, named after a 19th century university president. He said, when he left IU for Stanford, that he didn’t want a building named after him, but he liked that waterway. It was a hugely prominent geographical feature, especially before the continued campus development. And so it was, but the River Jordan returned to the old name, Spanker’s Branch, when it left campus. (No, really, Spanker’s Branch. There’s a plaque and everything.)

Jordan got a building named after him later, anyway, and the whole waterway now bears his name, as well. That’s our loss. Spanker’s Branch is a great name, but I haven’t yet found the historical origins of the ancient name. My best guess, though, is that it was a name, rather than a verb. But! I have found a 1922 book of local stories that includes an anecdote by an octogenarian about her father playing at Spanker’s Branch as a child. If she was 80, that name would have good way back.

So the search will continue.

adventures / cycling / photo / Tuesday / video — Comments Off on The modes of locomotion
21
May 19

The modes of locomotion

This month’s fill-up:

That’s a pretty decent price, after the grocery store points discount. And filling up every month or so is a lot better than doing it every Monday, or even more frequently, like the bad old days.

Naturally, after buying a tank full of gas, you go out for a short, 20-mile bike ride. It was 10 miles out and come back. I jumped out for a small lead at a stop sign and worked as hard as I could on the generally uphill progression. I was all proud, until I got to the appointed turnaround and The Yankee was just 20 yards behind me.
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“How’s your ride?” I asked.
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“Good, slow, but fine,” she said.
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I’d been working so hard. This was my first ride of the year which felt good — I’ve been nursing some aches and pains. The weather was delightfully mild and it was the best stretch of riding so far of the year. Slow, she says, because she’s so ridiculously strong.
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So we head back. I take the lead. There’s a train track running parallel to this country road we’re on. I can hear a train blasting its horn announcing itself at intersections to my right. Briefly, just in front of us and then behind us. If I hurry, I figured, I can safely beat it. I knew the intersection with the tracks, of course. It’s at a good clearing and it has great lights. No gates, but you can see off to the side enough to know whether you should jump the tracks or stop. I had an ear and eye off to the right and my legs and lungs were doing everything else. I beat the train. After the tracks, there’s a demanding little hill. One of those that you think shouldn’t hurt, but it can really do some damage. It can be an emotional ascent. I’ve seen it happen. Anyway, I topped that climb and The Yankee dropped me, hard and convincingly.
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So that explains my view the rest of the way back:

After, she said she was just read to be home. So clearly I have to ride better.

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