Lord, have mercy, I’m tired! What a week, but I’m officially on vacation, without any specific plans other than doing what feels right for the day. That might mean vegetated at home, or it might mean going on some little adventures with a bike, or whatever. It’s all good.
Tomorrow, if I manage to get out of the house early enough, I’m going to ride downtown to the season’s first farmer’s market in Central Park. I can take bike paths pretty much the entire way from my house, which is fantastic. I’ve ridden to downtown before, but never parked the bike and shopped there.
Riding a bike to a farmer’s market seems so cultured and something only them big city people do. I think I’ve just seen too many commercials glamorizing middle-aged people riding bikes to buy vegetables at quaint markets. It was probably a Centrum Silver commercial. With my pills and farmer’s market vegetables, I’ll be adding years to my life, assuming I’m not shot along the way.
Other than that, there are some local trails I want to try out. Springfield has a whole network of trails, and I’ve been on one with my daughter. It was a former rail line, so it was as flat as could be, but still nice.
I might travel a little farther for some other paths, but I’m sticking fairly close to home to take care of my sick dog. She was diagnosed with cancer a couple of months ago and has been hanging in there. Dogs always amaze me in their unrelenting zest for life, no matter their age or condition.
It reminds me of a neighbor I grew up with. He was a World War II veteran and had a myriad of health issues, but I never heard him complain about it. He’d still put on a suit and tie, regardless of whatever he was battling, and go on about his day. It was obvious he was in pain, and had great difficulty walking, but still greeted every day with a smile and a wave.
I’ve always counted myself very lucky to have grown up with several members of his generation. Most were just like him. I loved listening to their stories. They were never dull, and their take on the world made a lot of sense. They’re a big reason why I want to get out and, well, get a life. I want to have stories to tell, other than, I go to work every day, my back hurts, once in a while I do something marginally fun, The End. That’s kinda pitiful.
I want my grandkids to think I’m cool, or at least interesting. Now I just have to remember what interesting is. Hmmm…
Well, it’s 8:33 PM, so it’s almost time to go to bed. No, seriously, it is. I can barely keep my eyes open. It’s hard to be interesting when you can’t stay awake!
