Family
I like hanging around people who are related; when you’re in a situation where you have no choice but to stick with someone, your personality really comes out.
It’s all about family.
Derek apologized in advance for bringing the South with him but he’s blameless—on that score, anyway. If there’s anyone he should apologize to it’s the South themselves; but on the on other hand, they were so game he ought to have charged admission.
I know I would have paid to see it.
But didn’t have to!
And that’s another thing about bike riding: cheap thrills.
The rain that started falling a bit harder at Westlake Center was free. And no cost for the real winter storm we rode through to the Aboretum. And the only price of admission for the thrilling ramble through park trails and passageways to a secluded shelter was my headlamp when Sketchy's hijinks led to a little crash but no fall.
Ah, family.
My own family is visiting Minneapolis, so it was nice to have a dose of real family on tonight’s ride, sisters and husbands to remind us how to do that with each other.
And I think we did pretty well: Idaho Spud confections and gin all around!
That’s family.
The way back to Lake Washington Boulevard was way more an adventure than the way there; I felt a little lost but knew I’d be okay when Pete starting singing out “There’s a hole in the bucket” because in that moment, I heard family coming from all directions.
Which is why, of course, I bailed on joining for the next part of the evening at the CIP. When you can choose your family, you have that option.
Nothing, though, is nicer than seeing folks who have no choice to be together also be happy to be with one another: I’m never more satisfied being in a bike gang than when it feels like family that wants to be.
It’s all about family.
Derek apologized in advance for bringing the South with him but he’s blameless—on that score, anyway. If there’s anyone he should apologize to it’s the South themselves; but on the on other hand, they were so game he ought to have charged admission.
I know I would have paid to see it.
But didn’t have to!
And that’s another thing about bike riding: cheap thrills.
The rain that started falling a bit harder at Westlake Center was free. And no cost for the real winter storm we rode through to the Aboretum. And the only price of admission for the thrilling ramble through park trails and passageways to a secluded shelter was my headlamp when Sketchy's hijinks led to a little crash but no fall.
Ah, family.
My own family is visiting Minneapolis, so it was nice to have a dose of real family on tonight’s ride, sisters and husbands to remind us how to do that with each other.
And I think we did pretty well: Idaho Spud confections and gin all around!
That’s family.
The way back to Lake Washington Boulevard was way more an adventure than the way there; I felt a little lost but knew I’d be okay when Pete starting singing out “There’s a hole in the bucket” because in that moment, I heard family coming from all directions.
Which is why, of course, I bailed on joining for the next part of the evening at the CIP. When you can choose your family, you have that option.
Nothing, though, is nicer than seeing folks who have no choice to be together also be happy to be with one another: I’m never more satisfied being in a bike gang than when it feels like family that wants to be.
posted by Professor Dave at 11:58 PM
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