Wednesday is not a ride good-old-Rosie-girl day. It’s a get off your butt and get moving day. My first class starts later than usual. I can bike!
Cool, but lovely. Warming up by midmorning. Looking back over my shoulder, I see the clump of trees that hides the farmhouse, bordered by late summer sunflowers, waiting for a market day harvest.
I cross the Beltline -- the highway that seals off the city from us rural types. And then I bike past Lake Monona. Ah, the lakes. Here’s me showing off with a photo from the seat of Mr. Red: we got lakes, people, see???
But the ride back, after work, is different. A stop at Trader Joe’s means that I then go past lake Wingra... or some run off from that body of water. I want to think -- pretty! But if Lake Monona felt choppy and perky on this windy day, this bit of water feels stagnant and rather sad.
It gets worse: I veer off the short stretch of bike path and now I have to mingle with traffic all the long way along Fish Hatchery Road. Bumpy road, strewn with pebbles and broken glass. There is a bike lane for a while. All of six inches (or so) wide. Flanked by numerous cars. Tell me – is there a worse combination? And I have a pack full of foods and even though it’s 69 degrees outside, I am sweaty hot by the time I reach the Oasis – our best ever café on Lacy Road.
Ed is late – he had detoured to Home Depot to look at the various paraphernalia needed to scrape and paint the farmhouse. That would have been a lovely stop to make together! I miss Home Depot! But, only one of us is retired, with ample time to journey through the aisles of sanders and paint application materials. I am the observer this time, giving unnecessary advice from the sidelines, expecting none of it to be followed because, well, I'm not there.
At least the last stretch of the road – the one connecting the café with the farmhouse – is pretty. Full of sweet golden rod now. The flowers of early fall.