Old Bag

Maybe this hasn't become the norm in your city, but in ours, everyone is expected to bring bags to stores when shopping.  Bye bye plastic bags...hooray!  Me?  This has been absolutely no problem as I've been using my own bags for many, many years.  Dave?  Ya, never has a bag...ever.

So, anyway, when we were out and about the other day we did a spur of the moment stop at a store.


Me:  "You don't keep bags in your car."

Dave:  "Not besides you."

Me:  "What?"


Two things.

1) I'm pretty sure Dave just called me an old bag.

2) He gets points for being funny and having good timing.

3) One of the things that makes our marriage work is that I always say, "What?" when I think he needs a second chance...because I do love him so, I really do!

Click here to purchase this painting.

I'm Making Dorky Cool

I've been reunited...with my bike!  And I'm so, so, so happy!

You see, I live at the top of a hill and pretty much everywhere I need to go on my bike (aside from work) requires that I ride down a fairly steep hill.  My bike, which is a fairly old cruiser with no bells and whistles.  It's stripped down, no reflectors, no gears, no kickstand, only rear brakes...and that is all.  And I LOVE IT!  Well, I loved it until a couple of years ago, that is.  Somehow the awareness of my mortality kicked up a notch, just as it has been doing bit by bit since I hit my thirties.  Anyway, blazing down those steep hills with only a rear brake that worked-ish was getting to me.  I found myself making plans for if/when the cable snapped or some other such failure thing occurred.  My plan?  Well, do the Flinstone's version of braking of course.  Yup, I'd be draggin' my feet, and hopin' and prayin' I'd come to a stop before I hit the busy street.  My other plan?  Slam into the curb at my right and flip over my bike and land in the rocky/thistley terrain.

So I worked with that plan for a while and then I came to the conclusion that, hey, I could resolve this whole issue if I just took my bike to a shop and got a front break.  Tah-da!  Problem solved, right?  I loaded my bike in Dave's car and headed to the bike shop.


Me:  "I want to get a front brake put on my bike because I have to go down steep hills a lot and I feel nervous about depending on just my back brake."

Bike service guy:  "You don't want to do that to this bike.  It won't look cool."

Me:  "Oh."


And I left the shop.  And I stopped riding my bike...completely...except for riding to work as no hills are involved.  And my heart was a little broken.


Two years later.  Yesterday I found myself gazing at my bike and longing to go on the long rides we used to love sharing with each other.  Need I remind you that I'm pretty much in love with my bike?  So, my big guy was willing to take me and my bike in his car to the bike shop...a different one.


Me:  "I want to get a front brake put on my bike because I have to go down steep hills a lot and I feel nervous about depending on just my back brake.  I know it won't look cool, but I just want to feel safe."

Bike service guy:  "Oh, sure.  It's a great old bike.  Let me show you what we have."

Me:  "Oh, yay!"


And just a few hours later I got a call that my bike was ready.  Dave and I went to get it...and my bike, she looked lovely, amazing, and decidedly cool.

And this morning I got up bright and early and my bike and I went for one of our long and day dreamy rides.  Bliss!


This is what I looked like when I was riding my bike...only my eyes were open...and I was wearing a helmet...and all my crazy hair was tied back...and there were only flowers on the ground.  OK, maybe this is just how I felt when I was riding my bike.

This painting is available for purchase at:  Blissed Out Hippie Chick

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