Having a plan on Friday proved useless, so I entered Saturday planless and brainless. In other words, it was just me being me.
I was up around 8 for coffee, toast, and a couple of dippy eggs before lubing up Mr. Burgundy (not code for sex) and getting my shit together for a quick ride in the rapidly warming morning sun.
I could have done just about any ride I wanted, but being a creature of habit, I opted for my standard 23-mile dirt road ride from the Cul-De-Sac-Shack.
I felt MUCH better on the bike than I did on Wednesday. My legs, mind, lungs, and lycra encased belly worked in unison for a quick ride with very few stops for pics.
Once home and out of my sweaty gear, I ate a half of a cold homemade chickpea burger, a piece of semi-stale cheese, and a handful of walnuts (not my best lunch) before getting my camera gear together for a short walk with Wifey at the Sylvan Preserve.
Wifey is recovering from a foot issue that may or may not have been a small fracture (x-rays were inconclusive due to swelling) and is just now back to walking pain-free. She was also looking to get out of the house for some fresh air. So, off we went.
We walked, talked, and I took some macro shots that you see here.
The walk wasn’t long due to her recovery, the lack of cooperating subjects, and the heat, but it was nice to spend time with my gal pal of 23+ years.
Once home, I mowed the front and side bits of the Cul-De-Sac-Shack’s vast (not really) estate before running out of steam and choosing to save the rest for Sunday.
It’s been a while since I packed that much activity into a day, and it felt great. Some days I look in the mirror, and I’m filled with self-loathing and shame, hearing every narcissistic dig, insult, passive-aggressive conversation, and guilt-trip laid on me over the years in surround sound 1. But on Saturday, after I finally showered and shaved, I looked into the mirror, wiped the last remnants of shaving gel from my face, gave myself a little wink, and muttered: “Not too bad… Not. Too. Bad.”
Later.
- Learning to let go of the past and continuing to alter my own paternally inherited narcissism towards those I love is a work in progress that I hope wasn’t started too late in life.