Friday, June 16, 2006

Blessed is the Postman

Great news. The package arrived with the 2 skeins of yarn - just in time. I will be able to continue to knit Mike's sock through the weekend.

I have just 40 more rows to go before the heel starts. It is really starting to look like its mate!

Pretty good progress, if I must say so myself, since starting it on Saturday 10 June! And I haven't been spending a lot of time on it either. I haven't been staying at work until too late so it has given me a little more time than I have had to knit in a while though.

Work has been somewhat frustrating lately. But, after the ride home on the bike, I feel so much better. There have been days when I have taken out my aggravation on the poor boys on the bike trail. You see, they are young, I am not that young. They are on nice sleek, lightweight road bikes with thin tires and I am on a heavy front-suspension mountain bike with fat tires.

I swear that they taunt me with their tiny bodies and flashy clothes. They tease me on purpose by passing me and then slowing up considerably on some tiny little hill (and I mean tiny). I pass them going up some 2% grade, they pass me going down. I pass them again going up and they usually are so tired trying to keep up with me that they don’t pass me anymore on the way down. Take that you out of shape youngsters with your expensive bikes and fancy bike clothes!

One boy even had the nerve to have a team logo on the back of his shorts that read “Team Lard ???”. The word “Team” was on his left cheek, the Lard part was on his butt, and I couldn’t see what was written on his right cheek. I am serious – Team Lard? Who would want to be on that team? That slogan motivated me even more to pass his little butt. He never knew what whizzed by him. It was my fastest ride home in a long while. Yes, he did belong to Team Lard.

One time this week I even told a boy as I passed him for the third time “You aren’t very good at hills”. My husband said that was mean.

I am not a bike racer or anything like that and I am not that fast. Maybe I should get a pair of shorts that read “You were passed by a Forty-five year old Woman with Fat tires!” Okay, that won’t fit.

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