usually, when i get on my bicycle my writer’s block is instantly lifted. here is a little poem i conceived on my way to a job today. this is all i remember from it: dear motorist please signal, please signal. please please signal. jerk! thank you. i hope you understand now how important it is…
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Another woman, a little girl on her bike, maybe a bit older than me. White hair in a loose pony tail, wearing a dress. When her light changed and she crossed in front of me at the intersection she grabbed a bunch of hem and sat on it to keep it from the spokes and…
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I was riding on the sidewalk, yes, the sidewalk, because it is the best route to the main road from my house, snow-wise. It’s a bit slow, this”riding” on the sidewalk, because I have to pay attention to pedestrians, and puppies. They have the right of way you see, and I don’t want to startle…
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…with my bike, Windy! A while ago I wrote about how buying a bike reminded me of falling in love. I’ve spent some quality time with Windy now, and she’s not perfect, but she’s been a good pal. I had a little trouble with some of the Simcoe‘s features. For a very scary month it even seemed there…
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My last bike, a ca. 1973 Raleigh Cruiser had three speeds, but only the second gear worked after I owned it about a month. I just stayed in second gear. I did that for almost a year, summer, winter. I stopped missing the other gears. I forgot all about them. My previous bike had seven….
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A tree died on the promenade by the water’s edge. There’s a long row of them about 10 feet apart. They’re each planted in a round hole in the concrete about 4 feet in diametre with a raised concrete lip about 2 inches high. The tree on the end died. It was always in the…
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Bone, officially, so says the manufacturer, Simcoe. But really that slightly greyish warmish off-white of almond milk. Or Nougat! Actually. 38 lbs of metal, plastic, leatherette, and disintegrating 40 yr-old padding is my brand new Simcoe. And a red silk rose in her hair. A red, black and Nougat-coloured Tango queen. Windy.
The other day I had the joy of placing an ad on Craigslist: Lost Sun Hat: Last Sunday I went through a pothole on Sherbourne going north towards The Esplanade on my bike, and didn’t notice my hat fall out of my rear basket. You were driving behind me and you honked at me. I get…
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Really! It’s super emotional. And you kind of take a chance, too. Riding around the store and around the block is like a first date. Some dating folks don’t call the first date a date. They call it “the obligatory introductory drink”, or “date zero”, and all sorts of other un-date-like things. But I digress!…
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Got waved over by a police officer the other day. He was kind of friendly looking, and I reluctantly and dutifully stopped and he said, hi there, would you like to register your bike with the Toronto police? Behind him I saw some people milling about at a table near the entrance of the station on this…
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