Posted tagged ‘bike riding’
June 27, 2015
The inside is cooler than outside. I went on the deck earlier and filled the bird feeders, all except the red spawn of Satan’s favorite one. Afterwards I sat outside for a while patting Miss Gracie. It is a lovely morning.
My back pain had me groaning loudly enough to wake myself up several times last night, just about every time I moved. My guess is Gracie and Fern never moved and slept through my pain. I’m tired today so I see a nap on the horizon.
June was exciting only because it meant the end of school. Now I could go wherever I wanted and stay as long as I liked. My mother never knew where we were. We left in the morning with our packed lunches and got home in time for supper. I remember going to the next town over, Wakefield, and riding the circumference of the lake. At the end of the lake, the end furthest away from us, was a teepee, the symbol of a gift shop selling Indian doodads. It never occurred to me how strange that was. There were very few Indians, exactly none, in suburban Boston yet I could buy a tom-tom or a hatchet decorated in beads and fringe. Sometimes we’d leave the lake at that end and ride our bikes to Reading. I remember signs announcing some sort of a military base. Once in a while we’d even see an army truck or jeep. We’d ride through Reading Square and sometimes take a detour to the train station and sit on the benches a while hoping for a train. I always thought it was a cheat that the towns on each side of mine had trains, and we didn’t. My town was stuck with buses. We’d leave Reading and ride the back roads home. We’d pass a golf course, a cemetery and a big corner store called Fortini’s. Sometimes we’d ride the swamp path through the woods, the quickest way home, while other times we’d stay on the road.
My mother would ask us what we’d done all day. Just riding around was always our answer.
Categories: Musings
Tags: army, bike riding, bird feeders, cooler house, end of school, June, lake, reading, teepee, Wakefield
Comments: 23 Comments
June 20, 2015
Today has been an interesting day around the Ryan homestead. First I had to go toilet shopping. The one on this floor cracked and pieces of tank and lots of water ended up all over the bathroom floor. I, however, was in New Hampshire when this happened so my friend Clare kindly cleaned up the flood and made sure the water was off. I had to run to the upstairs bathroom the last couple of days and sort of had to plan for the extra time to get there. Last night I decided I’d had enough planning so today Skip and I went to three places shopping for a new toilet, though I hesitate to call it shopping, and we were unsuccessful. One didn’t have the toilet in stock and the other two were closed. It was in the fourth place we finally found my new toilet. Skip mumbled his way through the parts and instructions but it is now in and functional so I no longer have to run upstairs. Skip then went outside and dug a hole for my little free library, http://littlefreelibrary.org, attached it to a 4 x4 then filled in the hole. My friend Bill made the library, and it is beautiful and even has cedar shingles on the roof. Skip is now completing his final task: putting a new mailbox for me across the street.
I like to shop, no question about it. Mostly I like off-beat stores where you can find odd or vintage. This week I have shopped for toilet seats, a new toilet, a new mailbox and a 4×4 pole. That is just not shopping by any definition.
It is a gorgeous day with a bright sun and a cooling breeze. When I was outside with Skip, I was reminded of Saturdays when I was a kid. I could hear a lawnmower, people talking and kids yelling to one another as they rode their bikes up and down the street. This is a neighborhood where people greet each other, catch up on the news and wave while passing by in a car. We are on our second generation of kids. The first generation grew up and now have kids of their own. On my street are nine, soon to be ten, kids under 10. There are two more but one just graduated from high school and his sister will be a senior in the fall. Many of us on the street are now retired. Four homes have the original owners. I’m one of them. I guess in a way that makes me an historian of my street.
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful day, bike riding, blue sky, little free library, neighborhood, new mailbox, new toilet, Shopping, water all over the floor
Comments: 4 Comments
June 19, 2015
Gracie is having her morning nap on the couch. She’s snoring. Maddie is under the lamp staying warm and Fern is sleeping on the couch cushion in the other room. Our routine is back.
I awoke to the sound of raindrops, but they lasted only a little while. The day, though, is still dark, overcast with light grey clouds. The weatherman says it will be warm, even hot.
The first few days of summer vacation when I was a kid were joyous days lacking routine, wide open days when I could do whatever I wanted. A long, wonderful summer stretched out in front of me. My bike never got put away. It stayed against the fence in the backyard. I used it to go to the library or to take a leisurely ride with no purpose or destination. I knew every corner of my town, every street. I knew all the places of interest. Some days I walked my bike on the sidewalk uptown while I looked in the store windows. Most times I hadn’t a cent, but I didn’t care. Looking was fun. In those days the square was filled with stores where you could watch the proprietors work. The shoe repair man always wore a leather apron. In the bakery you couldn’t watch the baking, just the wrapping and boxing of all the baked goods people bought. Meat hung in the window of one store and lobsters swam in a tank in the window of another. Cheese, huge round cheeses, filled the window of the buttery. The men’s store window had half mannequins wearing suit coats, shirts and ties. I always wondered why they didn’t have legs, but I guessed maybe the window was too small. The gas and electric appliance store had ranges in the windows. They were all white. People also went there to pay their electric bills. It was on the corner so half of the big door was really on two streets.
I’d get my fill of the square and bike home. I used different routes to vary the ride. I had a favorite house on one route which had a huge front porch and was painted red, my favorite color. On another route I went by the empty school. Sometimes I even rode on the dirt beside the railroad tracks as that was the shortest way home.
I never got tired of biking around town. When I go back, I drive on some of those same routes. The red house is still there, but the railroad tracks are gone. The square now has very few stores, and the remaining stores lack the character and individuality they had when I was young. I miss the lobsters the most though I do like the restaurant which has taken their place. When I go uptown now, I always think of what was and can name where all the stores once were. That restaurant was the Gloucester Fish Market.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding, grey day, lobster tanks, looking on store windows, mannequins, railroad tracks, rain, round cheese in the window, routine, shoe store, summer vacation, warm-even hot
Comments: 6 Comments
April 25, 2015
The house was cold this morning. I really didn’t want to get out of bed and neither did Gracie. She stood up, shook, then settled back down beside me, leaning against me. She’s into warmth. It was late, 9:20, so I dragged myself downstairs to begin the day.
My mother never woke us up on the weekends or in the summer. The older we got, the longer we slept in, but when we were young, we wanted the whole day. On summer Saturdays we’d get dressed, bolt down our cereals then take off, sometimes on our bikes and sometimes on foot. We’d cut through the woods to get to the horses in the field on Green Street. The house on the property was red, large and old. It was one of those square houses I found out much later were called federal. We’d stand by the fence, and the horses would come over and we’d pat them. My brother and I would try to feed them grass but they weren’t interested. A couple of times we climbed the fence hoping to jump on the horses and ride them. They’d take off as soon as we got close which was a good thing. I’m sure riding bareback would have lasted about a minute or two before I hit the ground.
Once in a while we’d alter our walking route and head for a different side of town, the area where the box factory, the railroad station and the red store were. Back then my town had a lot of factories for a small town: the Jones Shoe factory up town and two other factories which make chemicals, both by the railroad tracks. Those two buildings were brick, not common for buildings where I lived. Across the front of one was a black sign, but I don’t remember the name of the company though I passed it more times than I can remember because that part of the tracks was a shortcut home. All the factories were still active when I was a kid. One of my friend’s mothers worked in the shoe factory, and I remember watching the trains crossing the main road on their way to the chemical factories.
I used to love walking those tracks, none of which remain. Even now I always stop and watch trains. There is something about them which grabs my imagination.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding, box factory, chemical factories, cold day, factories, federal architecture, field, patting horses, railroad tracks, sleeping in, walking, weekends
Comments: 17 Comments
July 26, 2014
Here I am standing alone in the spotlight in the middle of the stage bowing to the adulation of the crowd. They are on their feet clapping and whistling. Why you wonder? Well, I did five errands this morning and just got through putting everything away. Now I am sitting, having a cold drink and drying off. The breeze behind me is cool so it won’t take long. Traffic everywhere was so thick I swear there must be deserted towns off cape. I was behind cars from five different states.
My first stop was the bank then next was the farmers’ market where I spend all but $1.80 from the bank money. I bought pickles, eggs, corn, heirloom tomatoes, bread, goat cheese and mosquito repellant spray. My last stop was for tonight’s movie night and the few things I needed. Those few things filled three bags.
The movie tonight is Westworld unless the crowd has already seen it of late. I know I haven’t. Yul Brynner is amazing as the android gone amok, relentless and frightening. In a bit, I’ll get the deck ready so I can loll when my moviegoers arrive. I really enjoy movie night.
Living in New England means four distinct seasons, four singular ways to enjoy the world. When I was a kid, my favorite was summer with its endless days to do whatever I wanted. I remember sleeping outside in the backyard and how the night was bright with starlight. Every day was sunny. Fall was beautiful but it had to shake off back to school time. It mostly did. I still associate fall with one of my favorite all time smells, the aroma of burning leaves, even though it has been years since I last smelled those leaves. I loved walking in the gutters and kicking leaves as I walked. Winter had snow and Christmas, an unbeatable combination. I loved winter despite the cold and even sometimes because of it. Spring was a delight. It was time to put away the heavy coats, hats and mittens and bring my bike out of hibernation. I remember flying down the hill riding my bike on the way to school. I’d let loose of the handlebars and stretch my arms straight out in the wind. I was exhilarated, and I was airborne. Being stuck in traffic gives me time for memories.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding, errands, farmers' market, four seasons, movie night, seasons, starry nights, traffic, Westworld
Comments: 12 Comments
June 1, 2014
Today is a glorious spring day filled with warm sunshine and deep blue skies. I just came back from driving my friends to the bus stop in Barnstable, and the ride home was a joy. The trees along the highway are leafy and are so many different colors of green. Hawks were riding the thermals. No one was in a hurry. When I got off the highway close to home, I saw people walking their dogs, runners along the bike path and bike riders along the road. The warmth of the sun is like a magnet drawing us out of our cool, dark houses. The sun on the deck is waiting for me.
I have memories of Junes long past, of transitions and changes. It was always the month ushering in the freedom of summer days. It was the month of graduations, of moving from one place in my life to another. I left for Ghana in June on a journey which changed my life. I came home two years later in June with experiences to hold for a lifetime. June is when the cape finally wakes from winter, when the flowers all bloom and the air smells fragrant. It is no wonder I count June as my favorite month.
The laundry has made it down to this floor. It is by the cellar door. It may get done today or maybe not. It depends on how long I can stand seeing it lying there. Sometimes I need to do things right away, the laundry obviously not one of those things. This morning it was sweeping the kitchen floor. When I was making the coffee, I noticed dust in the corners and bits of dry dog food around Gracie’s bowl. I lasted only through one cup of coffee then took out the broom. I couldn’t take it any more.
I have decided how to spend my day. I will do nothing but sit in the sun, sip a cold drink and read. The laundry in the hall will just fine for another day or two.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding, cleaning, dog walking, glorious day, hawks, June, Laundry, running, sun, sweeping, transitions
Comments: 13 Comments
April 25, 2014
The red spawn of Satan is driving me mad. I am Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight. I swear the spawn sits and stares at me then blatantly jumps onto the feeder with a swish of its tail. Today I am super- soaker shopping.
Around where I lived when I was a kid, there were woods, the all-season swamp, blueberry bushes and a huge field filled in the summer with grasshoppers by day and fireflies by night. On one exploration we, my brother and I, found a small box-like shack in the side woods. It was made up of odd boards and must have been newly constructed or we’d have seen it before then. When we looked inside, we saw magazines, girly magazines as we used to call them. We left them there and high-tailed it out of the shack. Later, when I was older, I figured the shack probably belonged to some teenage boys who were hiding the magazines, but I never saw anyone there. I never went back inside. I think I was afraid.
Some things stay with you. I remember the sound of the roller skates on the street and the different sound they made on the black top. I also remember how odd my feet felt once I’d stopped roller skating. They sort of tingled on the bottoms. It was different with ice skating. The sides of my feet hurt and walking felt strange. Downhill on a bike was the best feeling of all. It was speed, and I loved it when the wind whipped my hair. I never used the pedals. I let the incline do the work. While walking home from school in the rain, we’d stomp a big puddle over and over and watch the water fly. The puddle would get smaller and smaller until almost no water was left. We got soaked. My shoes were so squishy bubbles broke through at the laces. Once we got inside the house, my mother right away made us take our shoes off.
Every late afternoon we sat and watched television. We sat on the floor close to the set. My mother was always in the kitchen making dinner. My father wouldn’t be home until later. He’d come in the door wearing his topcoat and his fedora. He’d put the fedora on the top shelf of the closet by the door and he’d hang up his topcoat. He always wore a suit underneath.
When I was a kid, my life was filled with constants. They made me feel safe and comfortable.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding, blueberry bushes, downhill bike ride, field, girly magazines, ice and roller skating, puddles, rain, red spawn of Satan, shack in the woods, Swamp
Comments: 14 Comments
March 8, 2014
A sunny day with a blue sky and warm temperatures almost makes me wonder if I’m delusional. My mind is having trouble wrapping around this change in weather. It’s hard to believe, I know, but it is actually above freezing and will get to the 40’s today. The sides of my street are a stream of water from the melting plow piles. My birdseed barrel is no longer frozen to the deck. My front lawn is snowless. I wore my slippers to get the papers, and my socks didn’t get wet. My mouth is agape.
My furnace needed a new blower motor. It was around 62˚ in here by the time it was fixed, but it didn’t take long for the house to be warm and cozy again. The furnace even blows more quietly now. The bill will be in the mail.
When we’d have a string of warm days, I’d start riding my bike to school. It was mostly downhill in the morning until the straightaway which led directly to school. The bike rack was in the schoolyard under the trees. It was made of wood and painted green. We never used locks, and I don’t remember anyone ever having a bike stolen. The ride home was uphill, and by the time I was halfway up the hill by my house, I was walking my bike. It was early in the season, and my legs weren’t hill ready yet. They wouldn’t be until closer to summer when I would always ride all the way up the big hill and never think of stopping.
A day like today meant putting the winter coat, the hat, the mittens and the scarf away even if only for this one day. It was a wonderful freedom of movement. I loved my spring jackets. They were always light colors, usually pastels. I’d wear a sweater underneath until it got warm enough for just the jacket, for when spring was in full bloom.
In the spring I always felt like skipping. Walking wasn’t joyous enough.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding, freedom of movement, furnace blower motor, melting snow, skipping, spring coat, sunny day, uphill on my bike, warm house, warm temperature
Comments: 12 Comments
March 1, 2014
Snow is coming on Monday. Wow, I’m just so excited. We haven’t had any in at least three days. The weatherman also says it will be cold for most of the week. What a surprise! I was getting so tired of those high 20 degree days.
Today looks washed-out with light but no sun and some blue but mostly gray skies. The breeze is brisk and chilling.
I make all these plans to go places then I decide that being home and warm is the best place to be. Today I haven’t a choice. I have some must do errands. I will, however, award myself in some way for being fearless in the face of frigid cold and winter’s mighty hand.
I am an explorer. Even when I was a kid I explored. On my bicycle I rode all over town. I’d go down roads I hadn’t ever ridden on before. It wasn’t ever to find anything. It was just to see what was there. From high school in Arlington, it was a dime bus ride to Harvard Square down Mass Ave. It was the best of times for Harvard Square. The Orson Wells Theater, the old kiosk and the Wursthaus were still there. Book stores were everywhere. My friends and I explored the square time and time again. We went down one way streets resembling alleys and found hidden places to eat. We walked Harvard Yard. We never tired of spending a dime to get to the Square. We knew we might just find someplace neat, someplace new.
In college, I was no less an explorer but hardly explored. Books and classes took far too much of my time, and each summer I had to work. I was stuck in one place for what seemed like the longest time. I had a few interesting adventures in college and they helped but weren’t quite enough. My need to explore had expanded well beyond my bicycle and Harvard Square. I wanted new places. I wanted to need maps and hear a foreign language. I wanted the chance to be lost.
I am still an explorer, but my boundaries have expanded well beyond what I dreamed when I was ten. I have been lost several times, and I love finding my way. That’s what explorers do.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding, boundaries, breeze, chilling, cold, college, explorers, getting lost, Harvard Square, Snow, summer work, washed out day, Wursthaus, \exploring
Comments: 12 Comments
February 22, 2014
Usually Gracie is having her morning nap around this time but not today. The weather is beautiful, bright and warm. Gracie has been running in the yard almost since we both woke up. She comes in to look out the front door then goes back outside. She is one smart dog who knows to take advantage of a good thing when she sees it. Like Gracie, it is a day for me to be out somewhere, and I don’t think it matters where. I’ll lower the window and breathe in all the fresh air I can. I want to smell spring in the air.
Last night we had a spectacular rainstorm with thunder and lightning. I was in bed reading when it started. I loved it. Gracie, however, didn’t stir, didn’t even notice. Storms mean nothing to her.
The deck is now almost totally cleared of snow as is the backyard. Plow piles are still on corners but they are smaller and look the worse for the rain and the dirt from the road. I always wonder why the plows put those piles on the corners when right beside the corners might work just as well. If they do it so we can’t see oncoming cars, they succeed masterfully.
Today is bike riding weather. I would maneuver mine out of the cellar, up the steep stairs, ride down the sacred grass hill and take off down the street. Maybe I’d be lucky and have a dime in my pocket, plenty of money for a couple of candy bars or lots of penny candy. I’d wear a jacket instead of a winter coat and hope not to be noticed by my mother who would demand a warmer coat, hat and mittens. One warm day does not spring make according to the Mother’s Creed to which they all adhered. I would have headed toward the field close to my house to check out the horses or to the farm at the other end of town to see the dairy cows. My town also had a barn behind the town hall where horses were kept. It had and still has a zoo. Next to the zoo was a barn filled with stalls and MDC police horses. I’d ride most of the day. There was so much to see. Finally I’d get hungry and cold and ready to go home. The bike went back into the cellar until the next warm day when I could resume my world travels.
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful day, bike riding, horses, it feels like spring, penny candy, sunny, thunder and lightning, warm, zoo
Comments: 15 Comments
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