My husband bought our daughter a new bike yesterday. We have been promising her a new bike for two years, ever since we gave away her old one to her cousin in Maryland. I actually disliked that bilious-yellow bike. It was heavy and hard to handle. But my niece loved it, so I was glad to see it go.
When he came home, my husband said he'd seen in the store the bike I would love, one the same make as my very first bike, a bright red Giant, the one I used to take out of storage each summer when we went riding in the park. Here I am, thinking about exercise, and the perfect bike presents itself. I know my husband is nostalgic for the days when we would go riding every summer weekend, and take breaks on the grass by the river, watching people, being in the mix of life.
I'm nostalgic for those days.
I have come to hate sunny days. They insist you get out of the house, and I would rather hide inside. Not when it's sunny out, though. Nothing more depressing that a dark house on a sunny day.
Can I even make a bike stay up anymore?