Okay, I do ride further than once around the block, it's probably more like a couple miles (I'll pace it off when I go do errands later) but I'm glad I'm smart enough to not go crazy because my knees have been aching pretty much constantly since I started riding the other day. Geez, it's a pain, a real pain, to get old, isn't it?
July 1 (JULY!!! It's July already! Can you believe it? Me neither.)--Maldives (tsk, I already wrote about them at least once, can't they find different islands?) The lone palm tree juts into the picture like Mother Nature's best firework, proud and green against the blue sky. The fronds are so still it's as if the world is holding its breath. I'll bet it's hot. The clouds skulk along the horizon as if they're attached to the line where the sky and sea meet. A watercolorist would kill to have those colors at her disposal. Do you see the hint of purple under the surface shimmer of the ocean? How would you paint that? No one would believe it was real, they would call it fiction or Impressionism or just plain lies.
And that's when the clock chimed twelve and I realized how late it was. Since I wasn't having much luck with the writing I decided to see if I'd do better sleeping--and I was right.
--Barbara
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