Three things are on my mind: bicycle riding/crashes, cats and toilet flusher handles. The cat thoughts are only because I am cat-sitting for Master Reiki and Blue eyes (kind of a funny thing considering how allergic I am to cats); the toilet thing because the handle on the toilet at my new office is on the "wrong" side and every single time I go to flush; and, biking because of biking.
That damn toilet flusher thing....I reach for something that isn't there. Aren't all handles on the left?
Apparently not.
This is a photo of a cat (gleaned off the internet) that looks very much like the cats at Master Reiki and Blue Eyes home. I assume it is some kind of special cat, but all cats are just cats to me (no offense to the cats of the world) and thus I have no idea if it is a certain breed or kind. I pet them, I feed them, I itch, I go home. It's a lot easier than dog-sitting, I must say.
About that bike riding. Thoughts of bike riding surfaced while walking the dogs this afternoon. Our five year-old neighbor is learning how to ride his bike and thus he and his mom were standing outside, having a last-minute-pre-first-bike-ride-without-training-wheels conference. As the dogs and I walked by, there was Ninja Boy, seated on a bright, new shiny red and silver bike, sporting a helmet looking too big for his head but there for protection, nonetheless. He was doing fine, first time without training wheels, zipping along, mom running proudly behind him. It was one of those special moments that make you smile. I'm watching, he's peddling, mom's running....he's peddling...um....he's......
....there is nothing the mama can do as she is too far behind........
.....BAM! Right into a basketball pole in the driveway.
I don't think anyone told him about the brakes or else he was just too terrified to remember to use them.
There is this moment of silence, followed by the blood-curdling scream only a five year old can make. It is thankfully the scream not of injury but rather of emotional terror. In only minutes, he is up and back at the 'learning-how-not-to-crash-without-training-wheels' mode of transportation. (No need to put five dollars in the therapy fund--he's all good.)
You know what he needs? A playing card attached with a wooden clothespin to make noise on his spokes. That would make this momentous occasion even more special!
(Side note to Wild Mama: Remember all those shoes I ruined when learning to ride my bike in Woburn, Massachusetts? I kept dragging my toes instead of using the brakes. Details, details. I don't remember anyone telling me about this concept of brakes when I learned to ride a bike but that might be because I'm a spaz and don't pay attention, not that anyone neglected to tell me. I may be smart but I am so not about the details.)
The wife is all about bike riding and even got me to buy a bike two years ago. Here is a photo of said bikes to prove I actually do own one. The problem isn't the actual riding of the bike--I like getting out there and peddling away and I really like my new bike and I really do have a sporty new bike helmet--one of the biggest problems is that I have no peripheral vision and thus I spend most of the time on my bike feeling terrified.
If you are blind like me, you understand this concept of bike-riding-can't-see fear, especially if you have moved on to the trifocals area of your life. I have myopia to the point I need glasses to find my glasses. (Although I am taken to much exaggeration, this is no exaggeration. For those of you in the optician-minded world, my prescription is a -10. They don't even ask me about the eye chart because they know I can't even see the chart, let alone some giant "E.") Thus, I cannot see anything to my sides or toward the ground--it's no man's land of a blur. So, imagine you are on a bike and you can't peek to the side to see if you are about to be killed by a car sneaking up on your left. Or, picture not being able to see the ground while riding on some gravel-splashed road. With trifocals, it has become even more complicated as I must literally turn my head like an owl to see anything not directly in front of me--you have to look through the "sweet spot" in the lens or else it's a blur.
Of course, there have been some traumatic bike crashes in my past, which probably add to the feeling of the "can't-see-bike-terror." There was the great "blue-bike-caught-the-wheel-in-the-newly-edged lawn" incident in first grade, where the wheel got caught between the sod and sidewalk and I went flying, ribs crashing into the bike handle. Knocked the wind right out of me, left me sprawling on the ground. Some lady passing buy in a car asked me if I was okay. I put on my bravest face and told her yes, lower lick sticking out past my nose in an effort not to cry....
...There was the "oh-my-god-my-front-wheel-just-flew-off-my-banana-yellow -Schwinn-ten-miles-from-home" biking incident when Band Mouse and I were riding home from Chicago. That was in the olden days when it was actually safe to ride your bike to the lakeshore of Chicago from the suburbs--a 13 mile trip one way, if I'm not mistaken. It took hours for that trip but having the wheel fly off made it take longer. (And, of course, this happened in the days before bike helmets. However did any of us live without those things?)
We will not speak of the "orange-sparkle-banana-seated-blue-and-orange-crotch crash.
Of course, there are a million happy bike-riding memories from my youth--from the sound that bike tires make when riding down gravel alleys to riding with no hands to watching my mother learn how to ride a bike when I was in high school....from getting that banana-yellow-ten-speed under the Christmas tree to earning a Girl Scout Badge by riding my bike in the rain and making a shelter using the bike and rain ponch (and probably employing the ever present Girl Scout Sit-upon)....from riding back and forth to friends' houses to dragging those old toes to stop the bike....it is a good thing.
I think this shall be the summer I learn to ride my bike without fear. Mark my words now! I'm sure it will involve lots of nerdy mirrors and new glasses that aren't trifocals.....if nothing else, I'll grab my Girl Scout Rain Poncho and sit my sorry ass on the ground as the wife rides her bike around the globe....
No comments:
Post a Comment