It's 11;30 Saturday morning and I'm still sitting here waiting for the temperature outside to warm up. We've had spring-like weather for several weeks now and today is like some kind of cruel joke. It's been 48 degrees for some time now. I'm about to put on the tights and long sleeved jersey and go ride as soon as I put in my contacts and retrieve the two eggs bubbling about in the pot of water on the stove. I like hard boiled eggs because they require no tending to. Just plunk them in a pot of water and let it boil. No stirring or watching or any of that mess.
[several hours later...]
I'm back. Rode for a couple hours and mashed out a little over 21 miles at the veloway (and into the wind). It's now a balmy 51 degrees in Austin, Texas. Got a pot of coffee percolating on the stove and it's starting to make the gurgling and bubbling sounds that tell me I'll soon be smelling that intoxicating aroma of french roast. Okay.. maybe not intoxicating, but it does smell good. My sister-in-law got me that coffee pot for Christmas. It was completely unexpected and totally random. I've had other coffee pots in the past but this one is stainless steel and the whole thing can be disassembled easily and put in the dishwasher. My kind of pot. It reminds me of my grandmother's house in Mississippi. She would often be up as early as 5am cooking breakfast and prepping the kitchen for the rest of the day. As a child I was somewhat frightened by the noisy contraption and it produced a strong, thick black coffee that not even half a cup of milk could temper.
And now for some totally random crap:
On the way home from the track I heard another song by The Airborne Toxic Event - I'm soo getting that CD. I also want to get ones by Snow Patrol and Owl City.
It's Valentine's Day. This time last year I was in love and started working on this poem:
a love that will never be
even though I give you all
and in a moment of utter despair
I beg for forgiveness
but the angel refuses to hear
I'm watching Jacques Pepin on PBS whip up some concoction on the stove whilst killing time waiting for the Tour of California to come on in an hour.
Yesterday was Friday the 13th and there must have been some kind of harmonic convergence because my phone which sometimes doesn't ring for weeks suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree. We had arranged happy hour with co-workers and former co-workers on Friday. My sister-in-law called to invite me to dinner at Ranch 616 where she had made reservations for no one in particular. I couldn't go since I was already committed to happy hour. Funny part was that Ranch 616 was my first suggestion for happy hour location. It's a bit pricey so it got pooh-pooed by the budget conscious amongst us. Then Nancy called to see if wanted to meet for drinks after work and once again I had to take a rain check. We're gonna meet Monday afternoon at Guero's Taco Bar for margaritas and general loitering on Congress Avenue. It promises to be fun.
PS: spell check didn't like "gonna" (slang for "going to") and instead suggested I use "gonad". What?