Paste
And/or
Obtain
Even if those are my own words, I do not feel inspired by them.
I have some small, crazy stories from the last week or so to tell, Maybe some of the words can fit into these.
Biking again
I am determined to get in better shape. Since having my gall bladder removed in January '24, all sorts of family related things happened, including, but not limited to the death of the Walrus (Granddad) and GrannyOwl (Grandma). The OwlBody was flabby and swollen, and running to the bus stop - 200 metres - left me panting for breath. My pants were too tight, bothering legs and tummy, my shoes and socks left deep marks when I took them off. Eww.
My weapon of choice is -- as long time readers might know -- my bike. Since May 30 I've been on my bike every day except three, spending hours biking around my little village, to and from shopping, and other appointments. And yesterday, for the first time my toes again felt like separate entities, I could hurry home - and avoid being drenched from the rain showers once again chasing my tail-feathers. This seems to be a recurring theme to my July biking.
A strange Dog
Some days ago, July 2, it was hot, 30 degrees.
Today it's half that and rain. Between these extremes we've had sunshine, clouds, showers and wind, always wind. The days since I began biking with winds in the daytime blowing less than 5m/s can be counted on one hand. This leads to me choosing my route after the direction of the wind to avoid headwinds going home - except for appointments where I cannot choose of course.
On that hot day, I was on my way to town with a strong wind against, I held my head a bit turned away from the wind, but not more so than I was still able to see the road. One of the dangers in the nearby woods are dogs. Dogs on long retractable leashes with deaf owners, or owners with earbuds.
That day, still on the tarmac road, I noticed a big, brown dog snuffing the leaves in the ditch. I could not see the owner, but the path through the woods was less than a fully unrolled leash away. I slowed down, ready to stop. As I came closer, I thought that it was a strange dog, and still no owner to be seen. Then with a start the "dog" leapt from the ditch where it had been drinking and into the woods, not a dog at all, but a doe, either a fallow deer, or more probable a roe deer. We have both in the woods, together with the magnificent red deer.
An Unexpected Thunderstorm
Before I left home, I had consulted the precipitation warning. No precipitation foreseen until thunder and violent showers in the evening. It was around eleven o'clock. But as I came out from the first supermarket, black clouds were gathering already filling up a bit of the sky. The forecast had told of no rain so I debated with myself if the clouds were just passing by. But when I came out from the second, of three, supermarkets almost the whole sky was covered in clouds. Astonished over the lack of precision in the forecast, I hurried into and out of the third place, and hurriedly biked home. All the while the thunder rolled and just a few minutes after I had arrived, and carried inside all the groceries - partly in paper bags, the rain came pouring down. Not for long, but I would have been drenched, and my groceries as well, had I been just a little slower.
Building
We had a big garage on our lot. It had been used by the previous owner for two lorries, but it was a rather useless building. It was big, like 56 square metres, unheated, draughty, with a roof made from coorugated fibre cement sheets containing asbestos. After January 1st, 2025 it would become very expensive to get rid of this roof, so all of December we worked on and off on getting the sheets off and conveyed to the local recycling centre. Now local builders are slowly building a smaller, more weather worthy construction. So far it looks more like a black box than a shed for bikes and things, but that'll change in weeks to come.
Still missing Ferry, Paste and Obtain, but my bike is waiting to take me shopping before the rain gets any worse. I might find a story to suit, even if ferry is a far cry in our landlocked town.
