Musings from a wet afternoon
Rainy day. I would not notice, except that I have this mysterious hole in the basement. And it fills with water. And the particular pump that causes me to lose sleep in the spring is back to humming, uselessly. My next move includes spending money at the hardware store (after finding a close model match) and then doing the replacement dance. Or, as an alternative, I can perfect my skills as a water bearer. No, don’t call me Aquarius. This is me dipping, pulling, dumping, repeat. And I wish there was a better strategy.
Today, she who knows about such things, dropped off a “green box” at our local veggie farmer. Apparently we’ll get a full box in return for the empty one (is this a free service for those who feign ignorance invoked by a fixed income? Probably not, says she.
And in other searches, I did not find my tire irons (bicycle sized). Nor that special axle skewer. I guess I’ll have to get help, since I did not see anything like that in the “usual places”. My decision to put the bike on the resistance stand is final. If I can’t see the road under my wheels, I don’t want to ride. I will accept the exercise portion, if I can get the bike to stand still long enough. This came after long moments of reflection; I have decided that I don’t need to keep the bike in a road worthy state for impulsive guests. Let them BYOB (bring your own bike). A casual visitor will never know aby other possibility, and my own kids perfer their own gear. Dad is so “old school” despite my fancy disc brakes.
