
Like a moth to the lame, a lemming to the fire, and a virgin to a cliff, Macro Monday has returned! [insert feigned applause and mumbled groans here] This time, it’s a two-parter.

Like a moth to the lame, a lemming to the fire, and a virgin to a cliff, Macro Monday has returned! [insert feigned applause and mumbled groans here] This time, it’s a two-parter.

Like getting rim-burning runs after a hot wing and Natty Light binge, Macro Monday is back! To be honest, I don’t know what that means, or why I felt the need to type it, but what’s done is done1.

The past week was filled with ups and downs. To be honest, it was mostly filled with downs, but I’m choosing not to devote any more brainpower than is absolutely necessary to those bits and think about my Friday morning ride.

This week has been a rollercoaster shit show of good days, bad days, a swell 49th birthday, COVID angst, life angst, adulting, a crap walk in the woods that yielded not one photo I liked, a somewhat OK ride south of town, and a few hours at the shop.

My Saturday plan was to mountain bike at MMCC. So, I was up early-ish to eat, coffee up, dump out, and get my shit together for the ride. Only I didn’t get all my shit together.

After Friday’s big, fat, hot as fuck, fail of a ride, I headed to Sylvan Solace on Saturday to capture the macro shots you see today. Saving another attempt at two-wheeled happiness for Sunday.

Sunday was another perfect summer day for being outside, and I had a woodsy walk with a camera (or two) on my mind.
My original plan was just to hit one of my usual locations, but at the last minute, I decided to go to the Forest Hill Nature Area just outside of Alma.

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
In my previous post, I talked of being on a mood rollercoaster. Well, that rollercoaster went off the rails and smashed right into a crowded elephant ears stand a hundred feet below.

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
THURSDAY, 10:13 AM
I’ve looked at this blank page of digital nothingness for too long. I’ve got nothing right now. If I stay here looking at the blankness for any longer, I won’t be able to not talk about the fact that I know, ACTUALLY FUCKING KNOW, a COVID denier.

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
Monday was yet another windy day in mid-Michigan, and other than some brief time reintroducing myself to the dread-mill, lifting heavy things for no reason, and my thrice-weekly trip to the grocery store, I did nothing.
I did manage to work on losing what’s left of my mind by going through and processing some photos I took late last July during a brief visit home to Pennsylvania.