Category Archives: Uncategorized

Lazy Morning

Thanks to Lacey we’ve enjoyed six days of meditation first thing in the morning.  First time on the cushion in ten years!  Lacey doesn’t enjoy the Japanese aloeswood incense I have on hand (too smoky) so a box of Japanese smokeless is on the way.  Smokeless incense?   Who knew?Lilac

Friends invited us to join them at a soft opening for Berben and Wollf’s vegan delicatessen last evening.  Forever in their debt!

It’s great to again have a vegan restaurant in town.  Looks like this one is going to be the best yet.  Read my review here.  I think the joint is opening to the public this Tuesday, but check their Facebook page to be sure.  Oh–says they’ll be making puppy treats, too!  I’m wiring to them all my money now.  You’ll know where to find me for the foreseeable future!

I’m not on Facebook but have made my way there to check out Berben and Wolff’s feed.  Maybe it’s good that I’m not on FB.  Check out this comment about the excellent bread they are using.

FB

I wish HM could have resisted sharing his views on veganism.  He looks old enough to know better than to expect perfection.  Veganism for me is about love.  Rock Hill deserves praise for their work to date and encouragement to keep up the progress.

Frida has walked one point two miles each day for four days in a row!  She is a miracle wrapped in the cutest fur coat you’ve ever hoped to snuggle.

I’m halfway through Haruki Murakami’s Sputnik Sweetheart–the ninth Murakami novel I’ve read in 2016!  Guess what?  Love it!

It’s Saturday.  Work party at the community garden in three hours and a Frida to walk before then.

Hope you have a terrific day!

Goings On

Lacey asked me yesterday to meditate with her this morning.  She says she thinks it will be good for her, but I think she also believes it will be good for me.  She’s right.  Why haven’t I been on the cushion for a decade?zafu and zabuton 05.10.16

Then Frida walked 1.2 miles.  Her cart was at hand but unused.  This weekend she was closing her left eye.  We flushed it and added four times the normal number of comfort drops.  By Monday it was back to normal.  Wind, pollen, leaf pod casings–I don’t care so long so she is feeling at ease.

Frida 05.10.16

Jack, the caretaker of our local pond, aka the Mayor of Dogville, asked me to reach out to the city to protest the relocation of Carl (spelling guess)–his coworker and best pal–to the Corning Preserve.  I wrote to the city using the AlbanyWorks4You app.  Please consider doing the same (or you can add your support at this link).  Mom and Dad–You remember Jack and Carl, right?  While doing a bang up job keeping our pond looking perfect, Jack feeds biscuits to the dogs and Carl feeds the cardinal that still comes by daily for peanuts.  Yesterday the cardinal landed on Frida’s cart’s handle!

Next up I pedaled to the garden to water sprouts and seedlings.  I was the only one there, unlimited sunshine and perfect temperature together conspired to keep me there.  I should have given in, but I have a deal to close in an hour and a dog that sleeps better when she knows I am nearby.  Cabbage 05.10.16

Consider this ride.

Cycle the Sam 05.22.16

Cycle the Sam is a collaboration between Troy Bike Rescue and Capital Roots.   They will ride the length of the Uncle Sam trail, then some  will double back while others continue through Waterford, Cohoes, and Green Island.  The ride will be moderately paced and family-friendly.  It is in my calendar but I doubt I will go.  Too many hours away from my dearest Frida (and I’m not strong enough to pull her all that way).  If you can’t go, at least spread the word.  Doesn’t it sound fun?

I fixed my tube amp!  A bridge rectifier failed.  I had a spare on hand and soldered it in.  I was nervous as hell, but it worked out well.  My four puddles of solder are to the right of the screwdriver.  Tidy!

Bridge Rectifier Solder 05.08.16

This was my first soldering job on a board.  The bridge rectifier retails for $1.50, but I bought a multimeter, a new soldering iron tip and some soldering wick.  Would have been much cheaper to have my hifi guy do the work, but it isn’t fun lugging the amp there and back.  It’s heavy!  Probably next time, though.  It really is a job for a pro.

A friend reminded me to take care when inside as large capacitors can retain lethal charges for weeks after the amp is turned off.  The amp had been off for a month, but I used my multimeter to confirm that all of the capacitors had fully drained.  Next time I will make a device to safely drain the caps as soon as I open the enclosure.  I also read that this amp has resistors in the circuit whose job it is to quickly drain the caps when the amp is powered off.  Still have to check and best to manually drain and check each time.

A CDTA rep called yesterday about my most recent close pass.  Not the person with whom I normally speak.  She said she had spoken to the driver to explain their mistake and assured me this driver will not make it again.  She apologized and said it must be scary.  I agreed.  It is terribly so.  She said the drivers should know better, but not all do.  She said they have a lot of new drivers this year and was happy to hear that another in the CDTA is putting together a memo to all drivers requiring them to fully change lanes to pass cyclists.  She invited me to call if it happens again.  What a great call.  Things are going to get better.  I can feel it.  It’s probably the vitamin D talking, burt I don’t care why I am optimistic.  It is just where I want to be.

My parents’ dog is still missing.  Three weeks or a month, even.  Poor Annie.  Poor parents.  I hope they are reunited soon.

I need to go.  Take care.

Increments

Yesterday I met with the CDTA to discuss close passes by busses.  It went well.

We started by reviewing a video of the most recent close pass I reported.  While he pulled up the video, I asked about the cameras.  Eight on each bus all taping at the same time.  Eight?  Some inside.  I remembered the bus fight that recently went down.  He said he was the first person at CDTA to respond to this–was in the office for 8 hours the next Saturday morning.  Ugh.  That was a tough situation.

We watched the video of the pass together.  I kept a poker face and the CDTA rep concluded it was a safe pass.  I was hoping to agree so I could relax in the face of what I believed to be close passes.  Unfortunately, the pass was clearly not safe.

Having made a bunch of careful measurements and calculations, I know a bus that is two arm lengths from me is three feet away.  That’s assuming bus mirrors extend nine inches (something I haven’t measured but I will at the first opportunity).  I brought a tape measure to the meeting but didn’t get to measure–we spent enough time talking–but the reality is every mirror will be a different height and extend out a different amount (they are adjustable).  And all cyclists are different heights.  Too much to calculate on the fly so the only way a driver can be safe is to assume the mirror could contact the cyclist and use the outside of the mirror as the place from which to measure the three foot safe pass.

The math from there is simple–24″ from my body to the tip of my fingers, less 3″ gained in width if my arm were down (the outside of my shoulder when my arm is down is 3″further out than my body when my arm is extended), plus 24″ when my arm length is doubled, less the assumed nine inches for the mirror gets you to 24-3+24-9=36 (3 feet).  Two arm lengths for the three feet safe pass.  Three arm lengths for the five feet safe pass recommended in the CDTA manual.

The bus in the video was 1.5 arm lengths from me.  I knew because I brought a pair of architectural dividers and used them to measure the distances on the screen.  Set them at 1 arm length (my arm was extended in the video).  Yup.  The bus was never more than 1.5 arm lengths away from my right shoulder.  To be precise, it was 24-3+12-9=24″.

The pass was within two feet.  Illegal and scary to watch on a computer in an office, but not nearly as scary as it was to experience it on the road.  The size, noise and heat, together with the proximity, make for a terrifying experience and I told the CDTA rep so.

He was understanding and sympathetic, but pointed out that the bus was within a foot from the centerline of the second lane.  The bus had almost fully left the lane I was in.  I was in the middle of the lane when the bus passed.  The rep suggested only one fix–I could get closer to the curb.

I reminded him of the exception to the stay right law.  When a lane is too narrow for a bike and a second user to share side by side, the bike can leave the curb.  The cyclist “takes the lane” to communicate to the other user that they need to pass in another lane.  I was on a part of Western where all four traffic lanes are narrow.  Headed west just after Allen.  The lanes are narrow for just two blocks to Manning, after which the outside lanes become wide enough for a bike and a car, but not a bike and a bus.

The safe passing zone is a moving zone of three feet.  Not three feet from a theoretical cyclist pedaling near the right hand curb.  Three feet from the cyclist’s left shoulder no matter where they are in a lane.  Imagine a yardstick extending from the cyclists left shoulder.  Something I’ve done as an experiment and am tempted to do more often, but know better.  In the video, I was in the middle of the outside lane.  If the bus couldn’t pass with a minimum of three feet, they must (a) cross the double yellow when there is no oncoming traffic or (b) wait a safe distance behind me to pass.

Wait to pass!  This hadn’t occurred to the rep, but it is the solution required by law.  No exceptions.  Hard for some motorists to grasp that they aren’t entitled to unimpeded flow at five to ten over.  They slow and stop for other motor vehicles but to do so for a cyclist is for some too much to ask.  I call them bullies.  Get out of my way, they think.  Sorry, I think.  And I am sorry.  But I can’t just now.  Will soon, though.  Give me 10 seconds.

The rep asked what would happen if I never got over.  I asked if he was concerned that I would stay on Western, taking the lane all the way to California with the bus stuck behind me, but added in all seriousness that he needn’t worry–I always get over as soon as it is safe for me to do so.  I reminded him that busses slow and stop for lights, cars and passengers and that they must slow and stop for cyclists, too.  This I didn’t say, but could have–If a cyclist never gets over, call the police.  The cyclist may be breaking the law.  Will calling the police help get a cyclist to move right?  Just as well as calling the police to get busses to pass safely!

I told him that I always move right and wave cars and busses by when I can see I am holding people up for more than 10 seconds.  That’s not a law, but it is my rule.  It is as long as I am comfortable being in the way.  I told him that I wouldn’t take the lane, that I would stay right, if I could tell in my mirror that an approaching bus was fully changing lanes.  I said I move or stay left when an approaching bus appears to want to snuggle up.  Staying in the lane creates a buffer zone allowing me to move right if the bus snuggles even closer before they finish the pass (this happens).  I said I have to trust my spider senses.  He understood that I was a reasonable person, that my concerns are valid, that I knew the law and how to be safe.  This was all very good.

I pushed on.  I gave him a packet of my talking points with the back up diagrams, laws and statistics.  We had already discussed most of it on the phone and by email, but I asked him to turn to the page with the death stats from Vision Zero–car hits ped at 20 mph killing one in ten/car hits ped at 30 mph killing five in ten/car hits ped at 40 mph killing nine in ten.  I reminded him that his operators routinely exceed the 30 mph city wide speed limit.  I know because I get tailgated and passed by busses when I drive my car (and I always go 30 mph).  I also know because I watch the speed indicators in school zones as I walk Frida.  Leaving the meeting I watched a bus go 30 mph in a 20 mph school zone.  Happens all the time.  I asked him if he can remotely monitor bus speed.  He said he can’t on all busses, but he was as surprised by the death stats as I continue to be.  He really is a good and caring guy.  I wasn’t wasting my breath.  I was getting through.

Now here is the best part.  He said at the opening of the meeting he was working with his safety coordinator to require drivers to fully leave a cyclists lane when passing on four lane roads.  Something I’d mentioned on our last call and the one thing I hoped to get out of the meeting.  I thanked him but suggested the rule is as necessary on two lane roads.  I think by the end of the meeting he understood.  We’ll see.

I ended the meeting after 30 minutes by saying I could talk all day but knew he was busy.  He said he’d send me the safe passing memo to drivers and that I should continue to contact him directly when I experience close passes.  I said I wouldn’t expect perfect compliance on day one but was encouraged to know that he was on the case.

Here is the packet I presented.  This is my first iCloud share so I have no idea if you’ll be able to grab the document using the link.  If you can’t get it and want it, be in touch.

Very Little

I pedaled to the garden and pulled last years kale and broccoli from the ground.  The bleached stalks, like bones pushing out of dry soil in a yard of shallow graves, were each wrenched back onto my side of the soil divide.  I also turned two rows with a shovel and in one planted seeds that may become broccoli, kale and collards.  I didn’t start seeds in the basement this year, something I had done each spring for about 15 years.  Instead I’ll start seeds directly in the soil and buy seedlings.  Taking it easy.

Frida is doing amazingly well.  She recently passed the one year mark since her corneal ulcers healed.  What a year.  More importantly, she is also eating, sleeping, walking and barking at passersby.  Lacey and I delight each morning as we hear Frida’s nails clicking on the floor, almost always just after we pour milk on our granola.  Our granola is stout.  A ten minute soak as we take Frida out (carry her down the stairs), make her breakfast, bring her in (carry her up the stairs) and give her drops doesn’t register for oats dried in a 250 degree oven for 1.5 hours.

My parents dog, Annie, has been missing for more than a week.  Cairn terriers are hunters, engineered to chase prey down holes.  Probably lots of chasing for a terrier to do in the desert around Sedona.  I hope she makes it home soon.

There is some nice steel shelving on Eileen just off of Western.  Two pieces.  One tall and one short.  I was going to bring them home, but then I’d have more things.  I am working hard to not have more things.  You should go get them.  They look nice.  I did bring home a hand operated drill from the box of free tools.   There are bits of various sizes in the wooden handle which are secured by a screw-on wooden cap.  Now I have one more thing.  A small thing.

I voted in the primary but didn’t understand what my vote would mean until after the vote.  It’s a wee bit complicated.  In Albany County, the Democratic ballot allowed me to cast votes for one of two candidates and then also for seven of fourteen delegates.  Each candidate had seven delegates lines up to the right of their name and the instruction over the delegates said “vote for seven.”  I voted for one candidate and then assumed that the delegates to the right of that candidate’s name were pledged to vote for that candidate, so I voted for those seven.  Andrew of Keep Albany Boring confirmed that my assumption was correct–that the candidates to the right were pledge to that candidate.  Smart guy.  As I left the polling place, I wondered if that was the case.

Still, I had questions.  Someone had told me that voting for delegates was how we picked the candidate.  Then why was I also voting for the candidate?  A poll worker said the opposite–that only the vote for the candidate mattered and couldn’t explain why we were voting for delegates.  The answer is simple, but the best way to vote is not.  Votes for the candidate determine how many delegates that candidate will be awarded, and votes for the delegates determine which delegates will attend the convention.  Simple, but…

It is the rare case that one candidate will get all the votes.  More likely the candidates will split the number of available delegates, for example, three to Bernie and four to Hillary (odd that I am/we are referring to candidates by their first names), such that voting for all seven delegates to the right of a candidate’s name will likely be a waste of some of your votes.  If everyone voted for all seven delegates to the right of their candidate’s name, the vote would be a tie.  There are surely backstop rules to address this, but voters can/should instead vote for a couple of their candidate’s delegates and a couple of the other candidate’s delegates, thereby supercharging their vote for their candidate’s delegates of choice and also influencing the delegate selection in the other candidate’s camp.  Maybe you know the delegate or they’re local, so getting them to the convention will be a plus to your area or circle of friends.  There’s a bit more to it, and you can read all about it here.  Thanks to  of the Albany Times Union for pointing me to the article! 

I’d venture that less than one percent of voters understand all of this, such that our primary was like playing a big game of monopoly where only one person knows the rules.  You do what you do and they tell you, or not, whether you’ve done it right.  You just have to trust them.  That’s not right.  You wouldn’t do it when playing a game and you really shouldn’t when voting.

My window is open and I thought I heard my neighbor say that Prince just died.  Twitter confirms it.  My biggest Prince memory?  I took Tara Cooper to Purple Rain when it was in the theater.  The film came out in ’84 so I would have been 17.  Not sure how I gathered the nerve to ask her, but I certainly lacked the nerve to make it a good date.  I doubt I said more than a few words.  I took her home immediately after the film–it was the only way to end my monumental anxiety.  No second date.  My sincerest apology to Tara Cooper for being such a drip.  My sincerest thanks to Prince for making the date seem sexy despite me.

Take care.

More Legislation

Safe passing laws are intended to make bicycling safer and more enjoyable by requiring motorists to leave a safety buffer between their vehicle and the cyclists they pass.  Whoosh goes the motor vehicle!  Just like in the commercials!  So powerful, I pray to thee.

The text of NY’s current safe passing law requires motor vehicle operators to leave a “safe distance” when passing bicyclists.  Consult the legislative history and learn that a “safe distance” is at least 3 feet.  That two step boogie, law and legislative history, is apparently one step too many.  The NY State legislature is now considering an amendment to the existing law to specify right in the text of the law that motorists are to leave at least 3 feet.  A one step dance that anyone can do.

But will they?  I could point out that (a) too many motorists are and will continue to be blissfully unaware of the current safe passing law and any amendment and (b) next to zero, but probably zero, police officers have or will enforce the law, clarification or no, but I won’t.  Securing changes in the law may comfort some, so let’s get on it.

I received the following email from the New York Bicycle Coalition (“NYBC”).

Thank you for emailing your legislators and asking them to support a 3 foot amendment to the safe passing law – we greatly appreciate your help!

Because of you, Senate Transportation Committee members passed S06649 (AKA the 3 foot amendment) by a vote of 16 to 1! It’s a great victory to get things started, but there is still a journey ahead.

Over next few weeks, there are going to be more votes in the Senate and Assembly that are critical to winning passage of the 3 foot amendment. Now is the time more than ever that we need to make our voices heard, especially among Assembly members.

Please take a quick moment to review this short and easy-to-read documentthen look up your assembly member’s contact information and schedule a quick meeting!

There are many ways to communicate with legislators, but nothing is more effective than meeting with them in person and sharing your message. As their constituent, your needs are among their top priorities.

We won’t be able to win passage of the 3 foot amendment without your help, so please act now.

Click on the link above.  I did and learned that my Assemblyperson, Patricia Fahey, is already on board with the amendment.  Thank Lorenz.  Huge relief!  I care deeply about safe bicycling but I am about as likely to schedule a quick meeting with my Assemblyperson as I am to go out and buy the clothes one might wear to a quick meeting with an Assemblyperson.  My long pants that fit at the moment are bright red, canary yellow, burnt orange and blue denim with worn knees from kneeling to put drops in Frida’s eyes.  No khakis.  No olive khakis.  No grey wool.  I guess I could wear dark blue cords, but my pits are batchy and my voice is cracking just thinking of A Quick Meeting!

My dear readers, though, are surely in a better place than I.  You may still make a habit of being “in the world.”  You may have laundered dress shirts protected by plastic  in your closet.  And your Assemblyperson may not yet be on the thumbs up list.  Three yesses?  If so, we need you!  You can do it.  The NYBC encourages you to meet with your Assemblyperson, but sending an email is better than nothing.  Get clicking!

Thank you.

The Letting Go

I’ve been working on letting go of the fear I feel when busses pass too closely.  That, and I sometimes choose a route to avoid busses.  Together, my efforts have helped a great deal.  I am much calmer and am enjoying rides more.

That doesn’t mean my work is done.  Today I pedaled on Western and was subjected to a close pass by a CDTA bus.  I pulled onto the sidewalk and calmly called it in (after coaxing a stray chihuahua nearer to me so that it wouldn’t bolt into Western Avenue–while I was preparing to pick him up the owner came out and scooped up “Taco”–phew).

I also emailed my contact at the CDTA.  He hadn’t replied to my email sent March 24, 2016 (the one with the hand drawn illustration showing that busses can’t share even the widest lanes side by side with cyclists) and it was good to remind him that the close passes are still happening.

Last time we spoke, he had hung his hat on the fact that the tape showed my outstretched arm not making contact with the bus.  I let him know that my wing span in only 21″, when measured from my torso to the end of my fingers.  So if I actually touch a bus, they’d be less than two feet away from me.  And that ignores that the measurement needs to be made not from the body of the bus but from the furthest protruding object on the bus–the outside of the right mirror.  So there needs to be a distance between my fingertips and the outside of the mirror of at least 15″ and assuming a mirror protrudes 9″ there should be two feet from my fingertips to the body of the bus.  Minimum.  Remember the CDTA driver manual requires a 3 foot safety zone but recommends a 5 foot safety zone.  So that’s four feet from my fingers to the bus.  That is a luxurious amount of room (and a luxury to which we are entitled).

I sent a picture to help the CDTA visualize all the relevant distances.  Might help you as well (if you bike and/or drive).Visualize 3 Feet

The end of the flag is three feet from my shoulder.  The brick wall would not be the body of the bus (or your car) but the outside of the right hand mirror.  Add another two feet (to get to the five feet recommended by the CDTA manual) and you have a very comfortable buffer zone.  A safety zone you’ve probably enjoyed less often than you’ve had your rights violated.

While I am doing my best to let go of the fear, I am not going to let the CDTA off the hook.  They have an obligation to operate in a safe manner and in compliance with all laws.  Until they do, I will be on them.  It would be great if you could lend your support.  If you are passed too closely, note the time, bus number, route and direction of travel.  Pull off the road and call the CDTA at 518-482-8822 and make a report of the close pass.  Put the number in your phone now.  Remind the CDTA rep that their manual requires a minimum safety zone of 3 feet and recommends 5 feet, measured from the outside of the bus mirror to your right shoulder, and that drivers are required to slow when passing cyclists (slowing is not the law, but it is in the CDTA driver’s manual so it is as good as law for bus drivers).

Close passes by busses happen to me nearly every time I ride on Western.  It must happen, then, dozens of times a day with all the cyclists that use Western on their commutes.  If every cyclist called, the CDTA would sort this out much more quickly.  I’ve been working on them for more than two years.  With your help we can get this addressed before someone loses their life.

New Yorker?  Remember to vote tomorrow!  12-9 in Albany.  I think this one may be a squeaker!

Thank you.

I took a walk

There happened to be a counselor with me.  This counselor knows not to counsel family unless invited.   We are married, so she only counsels if i ask for help.  Today, I asked for help and I got it.  It is so great to be married to a skilled and compassionate counselor!

We didn’t waste time on my backstory since she knows all that.  I filled her on the precipitating event–yesterday’s attempted right hook.  I’ll share it with you, too, in case the shorthand is new to you.

It wasn’t anything special.  It happens almost as often as I pedal on the right while traveling through an intersection.  Move left into the middle of the lane while traveling through an intersection and a right turning vehicle has to wait behind you.  Stay right, though, and cars often pass just before the intersection and then turn right just in front of you.  If you’re lucky, you brake.  This time I stayed right, a car turned right in front of me and I hit the brakes to avoid getting hit.  No time to be scared, but after the fact I hollered “HEY!” then “WHAT THE HELL!”  Didn’t want to yell, but my lizard brain takes over in times of stress.

I know to take the lane.  I know to give it back.  But the decision has to be made dozens of times each ride and I don’t always get it right.  I don’t want to get in the way any more often than need be, so I stay right too much.  It is only after a close call that I know that just then I should have moved left.  Asserted my rights.  Advocated for my personal safety.  So that’s one thing.  Something I’ve long known but recently neglected.  This isn’t what Lacey helped me see.

Lacey helped me see that I was stuck in a pattern and that only I could change the pattern.  Of course I tried to protect the status quo.  Protect my ego.  I have come a long way toward forgiving amateur motorists for their ignorance and willful breaking of the law, for their putting my life at risk, but I haven’t been able to forgive professional drivers.  This is one area where I am stuck.  Harder to forgive bus drivers.  Busses are big and loud and have stout mirrors projecting on the right.  Scary when they pass a lane away and really scary when they pass close.  The heat and the noise, the disparate speed (when they are exceeding the posted limit of 30 and I am going 15), and the visions I get of all the cyclists who have lost their lives under bus tires.  Too much!  And bus drivers are professionals.  They are supposed to know better and do better than civilian drivers.  If they don’t, they should be retrained.  If the retraining doesn’t take, if they don’t start following the law, they should be let go.

I don’t get the sense this happens at the CDTA and I’ve spent too much time trying to get the CDTA to change.  It is time to drop my effort to get the CDTA to do a better job educating their drivers.  That won’t come easy.  Contacting the CDTA was the only way I could maintain hope that things will get better.  If the pros are hopeless, all are hopeless.  Without hope, I am left with fear.  My best friend, like the song says, but sometimes we need a break from even our bestest friends.

If hope and fear are out, what remains?  Since I can’t get motorists to soften up, to be kinder and safer, it is time for me to toughen up.  I have to steel myself against vehicular insults.  I will work to have no reaction whatsoever.  Control the lizard brain.  No shouts arising out of fear.  Resist contacting the CDTA when their drivers snuggle.  Just pedal.  Hard work, sure, but I need to do it.

Lacey and I talked about how I carry with me all of these close calls.  I said I don’t get mad and I don’t, but I don’t forget them.  Each time I throw a leg over, I think of the event that happened the day before.  It is a lot to carry around!  I wonder if pedalers can develop a kind of accumulated PTSD–lots of close calls on a daily basis.  Can’t be good.

I confided in Lacey that I’ve recently considered stopping biking.  I’ve biked on public roads for nearly forty years, but I don’t remember getting scared by cars until I was older.  More or less in the year 2002.  That year I had restarted biking for transportation on a regular basis.  The protective cloak of immortality that only the young enjoy was gone.  When people threatened me with their cars, I felt it.  For years I hollered at them.  I’d chase them down and holler at them like a madman.  Glad to have stopped that, but now the CDTA busses are stuck in my craw.  So I am still collecting bad events in my memory sack.  It is all too much to carry.

Time to let it all go.  Biking is my life.  My identity.  What am I if not a pedaler?  It is the only  regular exercise I get.  I need it.  I can’t let them take pedaling.  Time to get tough and pedal slow.  Wish me luck.IMG_2964

Frida is an inspiration.  Walking more than a mile every day.  She is enjoying a much needed break from physical problems.  How did we get so lucky?

I am cooking so much but trying to eat less.  This works by making 1/2 and 1/4 recipes (unless the result can be frozen).

Then there is my nut cheese obsession.  I need to let this go, too.  I don’t really care about cheese, but it bugs me that the one thing omnis use as an excuse to continue with the killing–cheese–is getting so much better in the vegan world yet shelves in local stores continue to carry only the old weird stuff.  Time to make room for the newer yummier stuff.  So I write to ask them to consider carrying the newer yummier stuff.  I get no reply.  Here’s the lesson.  If a retailer doesn’t want to sell the hottest new thing, they won’t.  Never mind what one vocal (and dozens of silent) customers want.   Never mind that they could attract new customers who regularly pay premiums for things made without death in the ingredient list.  Ragonese Italian Imports has started selling vegan stuff without my asking.  Maybe that’s it–I should cool it with the lobbying so they can forget my suggestions and feel like they arrived at the decision on their own.  Patience.  I have so much for some things and so little for others.  Deep breath.  I look forward to local stores making the discovery.

Take care.