But Sunday morning was sunny and cool, the roads of North Portland were quiet, my hip was silent as my battered old Kona bicycle was spinning like a top, and the cheese danish at Madrona Hill Bakery was sweet as a lover's midnight kiss.
So the hell with my country's search for the miserable times we thought had gone for good after 1929. Sufficient unto tomorrow is the Evil thereof, and I am just going to leave you with the image of a deliciously languid Sunday.
4 comments:
But those days of languid enjoyment are what get us through the other days of grueling "omfgs!", right?
True that, my friend. I think I've talked about this earlier, but as much as I look around and see my country going to hell in a handbasket I personally am really pretty damn content. I have this terrific wife, great kids, I get to do work I love in a city and a region I treasure. I wish my right hip would quit bitchin', but other than that I don't have much to whine about in my personal life. Days like Sunday remind me of how sweet I have it...
Yes, even though the last couple years were in a crucible of acid here, it is improving and we have been fortunate in spite of some terrible choices. So, personally, yes...there is contentment. And that is a very good thing because, yeah, the weather outside is frightfully shit-stormish.
Ah, bicycles. The only machine that gives us freedom without debilitating side effects (except possibly getting run over). A metal-turning lathe is another of those fine machines that somehow contrive to bring us back to where we ought to be. As one old guy put it, the first sound he remembered hearing was the sharp ring of someone banging on one of those cast-iron pots people used to keep in the backyard. The last sound he wants to hear is the hum of a lathe.
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