Ask and Ye Shall Receive
The only thing wrong with the beginning of spring is the first couple of days the bike is taken out, hard, and I'm left with bikeass. The bones traditionally used to sit with are bruised by way of bouncing and constant jostling on concrete, fallen branches, gravelly bits, pot holes. I mean not to complain; it's just difficult to get back on the saddle after a 2 hour run the day before.
Layers... tons
Water bottle... check
Rain jacket... check
Mittens... check
It was overcast, but mild-ish. Fatty had never been on the bike path that runs alongside the Don River. It certainly wasn't old hat to me, but I'd been along there before. About 5kms north of my house there is a fork in the path that allows the outdoor enthusiast to either ride an additional 5kms to the rather large forested Sunnybrook Park, or veer east to Taylor Creek which brings charming wooden bridges, each unique and good to lie down on, bike paths both asphalt and dirt which both were either wet or muddy or both, all within an escarpment encased in woodlands. I'd never been to Taylor Creek before. It's good to explore something new together. Sometimes there was an option to either take the high road, using a bridge to bypass the creek, or the low road which allowed the cyclist to ride through 2-6" of the creek's water. We chose the lowroads. Neither of us have fenders. Everyone's pants were freezing and soaking wet.
Flecked in mud, water logged underwear, soaked to the bone, the two of us were very happy. Riding bikes with someone who is one of your best friends and someone you sleep with is pretty much up there in the greatest things of all time.
At Dirty's birthday dinner the other night she didn't tell me what she'd wished for, though I could guess. I asked her to make a very careful wish when she blew out the candle. After the first blowing, I'd lit it again saying she had another wish coming. Why not 2? She deserves it. I know she wished for someone special. I know she wants to be a mom.
There was someone who had called her the day after her birthday. Someone from her past. Someone who is still technically married, who still shares the same address as the mother of his child, the lady who lives upstairs from his basement accommodations. Bad choice, albeit. She knows it, but there are no real prospects in sight, so for now she is deliberating on this. Chewing. She's a spitter, not a swallower.
No decent prospects.
Maybe you should ask for help now.
The week before I met Ack, the ex-husband/ best friend, I was perfectly content in being alone. I was out for dinner with a friend, perfectly self-sufficient. Happy, even. This is great! I don't need anyone! And then I watched A River Runs Through It with Brad Pitt. Weeping sobbing. Sobbing weeping. That night I prayed for someone of significance. The next day I had a date with the man I was to be married to for 7 1/2 years.
A couple of weeks ago I realised that having someone in my life would be better than to not have someone in my life. Friends are lovely, but it's not the same as having someone love you, kiss your forehead, stroke your hair and back until you fall asleep. It's not. A couple of weeks ago I said I was ready to receive real love again. I asked the Universe for help this time.
Thank you for giving me Fatty.
I feel excitement in my heart, but I don't feel dizzy with the loss of myself. I realised how right I am with him because our relationship is love and comraderie. Heads close in bed, killing ourselves laughing last night, we two felt like we were at a summer camp sleepover.
Today with a bruised, sore ass I rode a different bike path, this time on my own. Along Lake Ontario, pairs of waterbirds are everywhere now. Swans, ducks, seagulls, our geese. All in pairs. Flying together. Floating together. Preening for one another. One guards, the other feeds.
Couples.
It's spring, goddammit!
Everyone should be in love.
Layers... tons
Water bottle... check
Rain jacket... check
Mittens... check
It was overcast, but mild-ish. Fatty had never been on the bike path that runs alongside the Don River. It certainly wasn't old hat to me, but I'd been along there before. About 5kms north of my house there is a fork in the path that allows the outdoor enthusiast to either ride an additional 5kms to the rather large forested Sunnybrook Park, or veer east to Taylor Creek which brings charming wooden bridges, each unique and good to lie down on, bike paths both asphalt and dirt which both were either wet or muddy or both, all within an escarpment encased in woodlands. I'd never been to Taylor Creek before. It's good to explore something new together. Sometimes there was an option to either take the high road, using a bridge to bypass the creek, or the low road which allowed the cyclist to ride through 2-6" of the creek's water. We chose the lowroads. Neither of us have fenders. Everyone's pants were freezing and soaking wet.
Flecked in mud, water logged underwear, soaked to the bone, the two of us were very happy. Riding bikes with someone who is one of your best friends and someone you sleep with is pretty much up there in the greatest things of all time.
At Dirty's birthday dinner the other night she didn't tell me what she'd wished for, though I could guess. I asked her to make a very careful wish when she blew out the candle. After the first blowing, I'd lit it again saying she had another wish coming. Why not 2? She deserves it. I know she wished for someone special. I know she wants to be a mom.
There was someone who had called her the day after her birthday. Someone from her past. Someone who is still technically married, who still shares the same address as the mother of his child, the lady who lives upstairs from his basement accommodations. Bad choice, albeit. She knows it, but there are no real prospects in sight, so for now she is deliberating on this. Chewing. She's a spitter, not a swallower.
No decent prospects.
Maybe you should ask for help now.
The week before I met Ack, the ex-husband/ best friend, I was perfectly content in being alone. I was out for dinner with a friend, perfectly self-sufficient. Happy, even. This is great! I don't need anyone! And then I watched A River Runs Through It with Brad Pitt. Weeping sobbing. Sobbing weeping. That night I prayed for someone of significance. The next day I had a date with the man I was to be married to for 7 1/2 years.
A couple of weeks ago I realised that having someone in my life would be better than to not have someone in my life. Friends are lovely, but it's not the same as having someone love you, kiss your forehead, stroke your hair and back until you fall asleep. It's not. A couple of weeks ago I said I was ready to receive real love again. I asked the Universe for help this time.
Thank you for giving me Fatty.
I feel excitement in my heart, but I don't feel dizzy with the loss of myself. I realised how right I am with him because our relationship is love and comraderie. Heads close in bed, killing ourselves laughing last night, we two felt like we were at a summer camp sleepover.
Today with a bruised, sore ass I rode a different bike path, this time on my own. Along Lake Ontario, pairs of waterbirds are everywhere now. Swans, ducks, seagulls, our geese. All in pairs. Flying together. Floating together. Preening for one another. One guards, the other feeds.
Couples.
It's spring, goddammit!
Everyone should be in love.
posted by Comrade Chicken at
6:06 p.m.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home