The colleague who gave me a set of pliers last week brought me another gift:
His landlady was about to throw the mug out as she found it detrimental to her mental health. I see the logic in that: I don’t hate my workplace, and I don’t need my morning tea to screw with me subliminally. Even if the mug holds twice the volume of tea as my default mug.
This post will be a bit disorganized, as I only have bite-sized accounts from my week to share, starting with radishes.
The radishes in my garden have started crowding. To make room for plumper radishes, I harvested a few early.
From the dirt to my mouth in under two minutes? My foray in gardening continues to be immensely satisfying.
I did something insane this morning: I woke up at 5:15am, dressed in my tightest clothing and met a group of (mostly) strangers in a parking lot. We rode together from 6am until 7:30am, spraying street juice in each other’s faces. I, like most roadies, am a mouth-breather. I could feel grit in my mouth at the end of the ride. I would have bailed, except one of the ladies I’ve been riding with, Erin, encouraged me to introduce myself on the group ride app. When I saw that my comment would be seen by 311 members rather than the group of ~12 I was hoping to join, I cleaned up my introduction. For someone who keeps a personal blog, I sure hold back when I know I’ll get 300+ local readers. Anyway, my introduction was well-received. I was peer-pressured into waking up crazly-early for a wet road ride.
I had fun, but I don’t plan on making it a habit. I’d sooner stick with my Saturday morning cycling club, as these rides start at a sensible 9am and are one of the few opportunities I have to do a long ride (90km).
Last Saturday, after parting ways with the group, I was confronted with an unsettling scene. A cyclist from a different club was lying on the road while two others were directing traffic around the injured guy. The rest of their group stood in the protected bike lane, and as I approached, one of them attempted to communicate with me. I gestured that I was deaf, and from what I understand, the injured guy missed the concrete divider that separated the bike lane from the road. The divider that is supposed to protect cyclists from motorists!
The dividers that have been recently introduced along parts of Interurban Road are a source of unease for me. I find myself constantly worried about the possibility of being clipped by e-bikers or faster cyclists attempting to pass me on the inside of these dividers.
It felt strange to continue my journey home. The following day, a colleague asked whether I’d seen the accident as someone he knew drove past the scene. At the same time, the injured guy was being wheeled into an ambulance. As far as I know, he survived, but the next few weeks won’t be fun for him.
To end this post on a lighter note, here’s a neat mailbox I came across on a walk a few weeks ago:
Also, this decal on the back of a burly-lipped neighbour’s van gives off strong “I want to hug all cats.” vibes.
squaremeat.com 