On the penultimate day of July, I rode my bike on an oldie, but goodie, route. After making some friendly trail etiquette suggestions to two Italian or Portuguese riders who are here for the summer and offering to fix a lady's flat, I stopped to admire the high river and take my obligatory Mighty Mississippi photo. It was a good transition into hanging out at a Twins game with Dan's South Carolinian brother and family.
On Sunday, I once again looked for our missing little album of wedding snapshots. (I have some photos from our wedding, but the best few were in their own little album.) Our marriage reached the age of majority yesterday, with all the attendant rights and responsibilities. I found a bunch of other photos, which I realized really should not be stored in a cardboard box in our basement, including pictures of my baby brother. We got married on his 13th birthday. I waged what he called a birthday campaign, with photos from when he was starting kindergarten and first grade. My photo app made the collage below. I had tons of fun posting old pictures of him, after going to the chiro and skipping dance class.
Oddly, after doing the TRAM and other recent bike rides, riding my bike is the one place my back doesn't hurt. Returning to my desk job last week and having crappy posture has made me rather uncomfortable, and serves as a good reminder that I need to keep moving, since I can. I am lucky in that respect.
Finally, to conclude this stream-of-consciousness post, I ran across this comic strip on Sunday. Please don't take the bike maintenance list Amelia Bedelia literal-like: don't put lube all over your handlebars. That's a disaster waiting to happen.
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