As much as we admire the rural white-good-as-porch-ornament motif, Lisa and I lugged the above appliance to the curb for trash pickup. In doing, I was reminded of the great mollusk Patella mexicana, a true limpet.
Which is what I had after I bruised my kneecap on the dishwasher.
Friday 2.25 miles. Mending.
For some it’s a skunk. Others, the sting of tire thrown grit. Or maybe matted cover from a long forgotten mow.
For me it’s the steam cooker hidden beneath my shirt.
Overdressed. 4 miles.
Another dry run. The wind still blowing bringing the chill down to 17 degrees.
Same route with an added portion to make 3. Feeling ok for starting out again. I am looking forward to some early sunrises. Now that I just typed that, I realize Sunday’s spring forward rather delays that prospect.