October 30--Skip Brown, West Virginia Morning Biking. Sarah's lungs burned as she pedaled up the switchback trail. Damn that Ken for dragging her out of her warm bed before the crack of dawn to torture herself on this bicycle. Ken was far ahead. He wasn't the kind of man to ride at a slower pace just to stay with her. Once an hour or so he would stop and wait for her, usually at the top of a long slow climb. That meant he would have a long time to decide how she could "attack the hill" better. She was thinking of a smart response to his next gem of advice when she became aware of rasping breaths right behind her. Thinking another rider was coming up she moved over to give him room to pass. A black bear came loping up alongside her, its tongue lolling, grunting with every stride. It looked at her but kept running. She wobbled to a stop trying to figure out if anyone would believe her story. She had barely begun pedaling again when she heard Ken's yell. Yes, he would believe her story.
No cafe writing today. Durwood's got a couple appointments so I'm planning to go tomorrow--or maybe Sunday when there's all those football games. I'll figure it out. Knitting tonight.
--Barbara
1 comment:
Yes, all things end -- including your garden. It looks very forlorn in your picture. I hope you still plan to make the gourd birdhouses.
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