There is no time for this today, but time be DAMNED! I will all caps it to the rooftops. Time must be made for things that matter. The Wrecking Ball’s knitting bones, and your denial of the significance of the internet and chicken, and how combined, they rule your world? These things matter.
I rode with S’quatch and ‘Tops on Saturday and it was like old times. I left the pack in the car and rode so light I forgot to suffer. Spring, spring, spring.
I am almost 42 years old, which will be older than my dad was when he was 41. Yesterday was my grandfather’s birthday, and he has been gone now for far too long, and it will only get longer from here. I stopped mid-stroke on Saturday to spot a Fat Grey Fox Squirrel as it spiraled up a longleaf pine. It seemed important to lay eyes on him again, and to say, I see you fat grey fox squirrel, so eat your pine nuts and swing in the breeze, but know that you were seen on this day, April 8, 2012 on the eve of my Papa’s birthday. I tease you in his honor, for he was mischievous and a friend to all squirrels.
Spring, spring, spring. I’m old for a young man, and to know so little about so much. The life is so short, and the craft takes forever to learn.
Old times but fewer miles, so few my calves didn’t even think of cramping.
Those file cabinets in the picture, did you get them from my office? We’re unloading a bunch of them. Electrons don’t waste their lives moldering in steel tombs.
The craft is impossible to learn; you just enjoy the lessons.
This I know. . . that you will never be one to miss the Fat Grey Fox Squirrel.
You are just melancholy because you know HWB is gonna make you look like a little girl now that he can ride again.
Congratulations. You have earned the ire of little girls everywhere, and they will find you.