THANKFUL FRIDAY

Michael and I had the discussion on Monday evening about the possibility of Tuesday being a scooter day. His weather app had declared Monday to not be a scooter day when in fact it would have been a fine day for scooter riding. So he looked at the weather app Monday evening and declared that it would most definitely not be a scooter day on Tuesday. His app showed lightening bolts and clouds. He said “No. You will not be riding your scooter tomorrow.” and I sighed and said ‘okay’. But the next morning, I got up and walked Josephine. It was so nice outside. The sky did not have any hints of menace. When I got home from our walk, I checked my weather app and it looked clear except for a sharp peak of activity around 3:00PM that lasted an hour or so. I looked down at Josephine and said “I’m riding my scooter.”

The weather here has been unpredictable and messy. I feel like this time last year, I was riding my bicycle to work every other day and my scooter on the other days. Cold morning temps and rain showers have made two wheeled rides impossible. The most frustrating part is believing the weather report of rain and driving the car to work only to have a clear beautiful day. I was fed up and reminded myself of my rule of two wheels that I used to follow religiously.

The Rule of Two Wheels: If the temps are 40 or above and the sky is clear, I ride two wheels. If there is a possibility of rain, the two wheel vehicle is the scooter. No rain means bicycle. I only have to get to work dry.

So I rode my scooter on a day where there was one sharp peak of activity. What I didn’t plan for was that the sharp peak of activity was possible tornado weather and when I got to work, I got a little nervous. I sent a text to Michael to warn him that I had made a choice and that it might not have been the smartest choice, but I was prepared mentally for the consequences. Not physically. When I’d opened up my scooter seat that morning to put my lunch in the storage compartment, my rain coat that I sometimes keep in there wasn’t there. I shrugged, put my helmet on and scooted on to work without it. The storm rolled in at 3:00. Michael was trying to decide if he should bring my car up and ride my scooter home or go shelter in the basement and by the time he had made a decision the storm had moved past us. When I left work just after 6:00, the sky was completely clear. The temperatures were perfect with only a slight occasional breeze.

Perfect scooter riding conditions.

When I got home, Micheal had the garage door open for me. I walked into the house and he just shook his head and said something about how I managed yet again to ride between raindrops. Maybe this is one of my superpowers. But I must say, that taking the risk and surviving the risk was exhilarating. Sure, I’m grateful for making it to work and back home safe and dry. That’s an easy gratitude grasp. I don’t usually see myself as a risk taker. I’m sure there are many who would disagree with that statement, but I feel like most of my previous risky behaviors have happened out naivety. I don’t recognize a situation as a risk until I’m in the middle of it and then I might pause and say to myself “this might be dangerous.” But by the time I recognize it, it’s too late. I’m in it. I’m doing the thing. It’s sort of like the thought concept of how you could walk on water if you didn’t know you couldn’t walk on water. Technically I am of an age where people would say that I should know better. Gratefully, I have made it to this age without losing that naivity and that I still think I can do the thing even if it might be risky or a little dangerous.

Today was not a scooter day. It rained on us during our morning walk, cutting the walk short. But there were three good days of zipping down city streets, beeping hellos to friends as I passed by, and the joy that comes with riding a scooter. The risks are worth it.

CHANGE OF FOCUS

When I purchased the new camera, I had set an intention to take it out for Friday walks, but then the weather turned wonky or my schedule was weird. Friday walks just didn’t happen for a few weeks. Last Friday, between meetings, I pulled my stocking cap down over my ears and zipped up my coat. I grabbed my camera and I stepped outside to walk. The effect of just stepping outside with that camera and the intention to use that camera was almost a manic feeling. I shifted from blase depression to elation in a blink of an eye. My face nearly broke with joy as I made my way up to the Nelson. Really, Kansas City is at its peak gorgeousness right now. The weather is not supposed to get cold until later this week, but the leaves have all turned. I can’t go a block without coming across what has to be the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen. Then I walk a few steps down the block and there’s a new contender for the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen.

Once I reached the sculpture park of the Nelson, I was pleased to find it mostly deserted. I had the park all to myself and at one point I was laying on the ground to get a particular shot and I thought “this is going to be a wonderful picture.” Even if the final picture wasn’t wonderful, at the moment of taking it, I felt really good. I felt like I was really doing something. I felt good about my craft and my art and these feelings stayed with me throughout my walk. By the time I made it back to my desk, I was a little sweaty and a lot glowy. The first thing I did was connect the camera to my phone for downloading and minor editing. That picture may not be the best picture I’ve ever taken but I still feel really good about it. Even if the final image had turned out like complete crap, I would have been happy with it because the whole action of taking the picture shifted something around in my insides.

In a good way.

A few years ago, I found my unathletic self agreeing to play softball for the corporate challenge. They made me the catcher mostly because I could hang out in a squat for long periods of time thanks to all of that yoga I do. It definitely was not because I was good at catching a ball. Just before our first game, our pitcher was warming up and he threw me a test pitch. The ball bounced up out of my glove into my face. I immediately stood up and started poking my front teeth to make sure they were still intact. Everyone ran to my side and someone said something about it would be okay if I sat this one out. I determined that I still had teeth, spit the blood out of my mouth and said “No. Let’s play this game.” My top lip swelled up and turned purple. Later, when I got home, Michael told me that it upset him to look at me. I can still feel a faint scar on the inside of my upper lip, probably because I needed stitches.

I was thinking about this recently because it feels like a good example of my life in general. I get hit hard, but I always manage to get up, spit the blood from my mouth and keep going. I feel like I have been taking some minor hits lately what with the scooter and the couch. My knee. My health in general. All of those little hits had started to pile up and I was beginning to feel a whole lot defeated. I needed something more than to just keep going. Friday evening, while sitting on that uncomfortable couch drinking too much wine, I told Heather and Michael that I wanted to go to the Vespa dealership and I was going to order exactly what I wanted. I said “this weekend we find a new couch and next weekend I’m getting a new scooter because I’m a grown ass woman with my own money and I’m going to get what I want!” I don’t know how much of that confident statement came from the wine or from my walk that day, but I like to think the walk played a significant role.

We had plans to go couch shopping on Saturday after getting our hairs cut. While I was waiting for our hairdresser to finish up with Michael, the people we ordered the couch from called me. They said our couch was in Chicago, which was exactly where they said it was in July, and would be delivered to our house this week. I finalized the delivery date and hung up the phone. Then I looked at Michael and said “Our couch is going to be delivered on Friday. Can we go to the Vespa dealer?” He agreed heartily after I bribed him with lunch at a BBQ place and by the end of the day, I had picked out my new scooter. Velma is a mint green (Verde Relaxed) Primavera 150 with front and back folding racks. Hopefully. There’s still a question of if the dealer has this scooter in stock, but with any luck I will have a new scooter just in time for my birthday. (Update: scooter has been ordered for real.)

The getting up and keep going part is not self care. I was doing those things on autopilot, moving through my days like a zombie. It was the act of getting out into the Fall sunlight and overloading my senses with color that changed things. It was the practice of picking up my camera and actively taking photos that took my off of autopilot. That is my self care and hopefully by writing this here, I’ll remember that for the next time I need a shift in focus.

LOVE THURSDAY

Cindy Maddera on Instagram: "Scooters"

"Scooters"

Our weekend was a one of scooters and fireworks. After dropping the Cabbage off with her mom on Friday, Michael and I traded the car for the scooters and zipped down to the Boulevard for tacos. Saturday we decided to make a picnic and scooter over to Long View Lake for their fireworks extravaganza. The ride home that night was like driving through the Apocalypse with neighborhood fireworks going off all around us. A heavy sulfurous haze settled over the roads and as Michael crested one hill, he almost ran over a guy who was in the process of lighting a firework in the middle of the street. I wonder how long I have to live here before I will get used to fireworks in the neighborhoods and city limits. I don't think it's legal, but no one seems to care too much. Sunday, we rode the scooters back out to the Long View Lake area to get our hairs cut and then to find lunch. Except it was more like lupper because by the time we got there is was three o'clock. 

Friday, as I followed Michael up State Line, I couldn't stop thinking about when Michael bought his scooter. I was in Chicago for BlogHer '13. He sent me a text telling me he was scooter shopping and I had a mild panic attack. Because I knew that he wasn't just buying a scooter. At the time I wanted to say "Dude, don't". Don't buy the scooter. Don't fall for me. Do not get remotely serious about this relationship. His buying the scooter was the equivalent of presenting me a diamond ring while kneeling. I would have none of that, thank you very much. Of course, Michael did a great job of playing it off, like buying the scooter was no big thing. He said if we didn't work out, he'd still have the scooter. Except, I knew better and I did my best to ignore the giant diamond ring in the room or garage and just go with it. Like riding a scooter.

Now whenever we get ready to go somewhere, the question is "Do we take the scooters?" The answer, unless the outing involves a large bag of groceries or the Cabbage, is usually a resounding "yes". There was joy in riding the scooter alone, those weekends when I'd head out into the city to hunt up something new. But it's better with two. Michael always manages to find the longest way to get someplace. He is the winner of stretching out the ride, making the most of the day. Which is his way. He's good at pushing me outside my comfort zone. I don't think I tell him this often enough. So while we munched on chips and fresh guacamole, I told him what I had been thinking about during our ride. I no longer ignore the giant diamond ring that sits in the garage. I just accept it for what it is. 

Years of scooter riding adventures.

Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

Today is one of those days where I've spent a lot of time thinking about what I'd write for a Love Thursday entry. Usually when I'm stumped, I go scroll through images hoping to find inspiration in the daily pictures I take. The easy choice for today would be the picture I took of my scooter this week. The weather has been lovely here and Michael and I have both ridden our scooters to work multiple days this week. Signs of Spring. I expect to see the tulips popping up out of the ground any day now. All of those are easy topics of love and I could probably use a little bit of easy this week. My days at work have been full and at times, slightly hectic. All of us are adjusting to the time change and you can feel the tension in the air from missing an hour or two of sleep. 

While my days have been complicated, my evenings have been simple. The menu for the week consisted of familiar dishes with simple ingredients and preparations. There might be an episode of House of Cards or some other show we've saved on the DVR that we decide to watch while eating dinner. Then we put the leash on Josephine and we tug her up the street. Sometimes she pulls. There was an incident the other day with a goose that required some holding. Geese are terrifying. We make it about two blocks before Josephine plops down and says "If you're not going to let me bite on every single leaf, I'm not walking any further." So we go home and play tug-of-war with the new toy fox. Michael and I may spend a few more quiet moments on the couch before we get ready for bed.  I don't even open my laptop. 

Samatva is Sanskrit for balance. There was a time when I taught people that their yoga practice should balance your daily life. That in fact, every aspect of your practice should be about balance. I don't mean the standing on one foot kind of balancing. I'm talking about whole body balancing. Back bends countered with child's pose. Boat pose countered with table top. You get the idea. I always talked about how eventually you find that your practice walks right off the mat and just becomes an extension of your daily life. It's the day you realize you're standing in Tadasana while in the check-out line at the grocery store. Even though I know all of this to be true, I am still surprised when I see it happening in my own daily life. This week has been a perfect example of samatva. It's quite possible that this is true for most weeks. I just had my eyes open to it this week. 

Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

This today. The first ride of the year. And then I nearly dropped my phone. #365

"This today. The first ride of the year. And then I nearly dropped my phone. #365"

I know that it is still winter. In fact many parts of the country are dealing with the harsh reality of winter as I sit here. There was a story on NPR the other morning about snow plow drivers in New Hampshire being sleep deprived. Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow even though the day was cloudy and decided that we would indeed have six more weeks of winter. I have no idea what's keeping the people in the East coast from going postal on Punxsutawney Phil other than immobilization from mountains of snow. I still suspect that Punxsutawney Phil better watch his back. 

The Midwest on the other hand, is experiencing it's warmest winter to date. We have days where the high is just above freezing followed by days of Spring like temperatures. Last Wednesday it snowed about two to three inches. By Saturday the highs where in the sixties and most of the snow was melted. It's been doing this kind of thing for weeks now. One day it's twenty seven degrees outside and the next day it's seventy.  I was used to this kind of thing living in Oklahoma, but I'm a little surprised by it here in KCMO. Sunday was one of those days where the temperatures reached seventy. I had had family in town on Saturday so chores like grocery shopping and laundry got put off to Sunday. As I stood in the kitchen washing dishes, I looked out into the backyard filled with sunlight. I could see our sad garden boxes full of leaves and left over plants that I never got around to pulling up. When Michael walked in to the kitchen I looked at him and said "I'm going to clean out the garden beds today." And that's what I did. Josephine helped me gather leaves and pull out plants and weeds. I still need to turn the beds and mix in some new dirt, but we should be ready to start planting in the Spring. 

While I cleaned out the gardens, Michael started working on his work table in the basement. He reached a point where he needed to go to the hardware store and suggested that we both go and take the scooters. That trip to the hardware store turned into a two hour excursion. Of course when we started the scooters, both were sitting on empty. This meant travelling over to the gas station on State Line because we know they have ethanol free gas. I needed to drop by work for something, so we took the scenic route through the country club area and past Loose Park. The park was full of people walking and jogging and just taking advantage of the weather. Once we got to work, we decided we were hungry and this took us on another scenic route that took us by the hardware store and Chipotle. We finished the ride with a trip to Trader Joe's because there were a couple of things I had missed earlier when I was there for groceries. 

That first scooter ride after months and months of not being able to ride is always sweetest. This is the time of year when the weather begins to tease us with the possibility of Spring. So when those seventy degree days pop up there is no better way to celebrate than by turning a mundane errand into a two hour jaunt on scooters. It's something to savor. It's a moment of joy to look back on when the next day is below thirty. It's a promise that eventually winter will end and every day will be a scooter day. 

You guys getting hit with all that snow? I promise, Spring will be here before you know it. Here's to hope and here's to a lovely Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

Whatever

elephant_soap's photo on Instagram

Saturday evening, Michael and I rode the scooters out near the river to have dinner. It was the longest scooter ride I'd been on in weeks. The last time I parked the scooter, I was sick and I did a terrible job of parking. For the last two weeks, every time Michael rode his scooter he'd have to maneuver his way around my scooter. He teased me about it daily only because I usually do such a good job of parking my scooter. The one time I don't is the time it ends up sitting for weeks. But then Michael's scooter started leaking and he had to put it into the shop for a week, so getting in and out of the garage wasn't an issue. But Saturday, Michael got his scooter back, I wasn't blowing my nose every five minutes, and the weather was nice. Basically, stars aligned. 

We are creeping into that season where scooter rides are less and less frequent. This week we've had rain or enough of a threat for rain that the scooter has been a no go. This is the hardest part of the end of summer, saying farewell to the daily scooter rides. It's what makes the simplest scooter ride so important. Our ride that evening was not really an extended ride. It was not an all day affair. It was just a simple ride to dinner. It took us into the heart of downtown, past the Power and Light District. We traveled through the City Market area and onto a bridge that took us over train tracks and into the River Park. Our ride put us close to Bond Bridge right around sunset. It was the magic hour of the day. The streets were quiet. The weather was cool with that slightly crisp hint of the coming Fall. Yet the sun was still just barely up. It was at that spot on the horizon where you can see the physical rotation of the Earth happening in real time. 

It was dark as we made our way home, but just barely and the street lights along Troost are bright enough. We watched a girl walking along the sidewalk with eight or nine puppies following her. No leash. In fact the girl didn't even seem all that concerned about the puppies, barely glancing back as one of them started wander off. As we stopped at a stop light Michael turned to me and said "DID YOU SEE ALL THOSE PUPPIES FOLLOWING THAT GIRL!". I suggested we steal one of them and then I remembered the "no pets" sign on the inside of my scooter seat. We passed the car lot that always reminds me of Christmas tree lot with the way the lights are strung up all around (I call it the Christmas tree car lot) and made our way home. 

It was the kind of ride that was peaceful and relaxing and just what I needed. It was the kind of ride that I'll think about when snow falls and I'm shoveling the driveway. A scooter ride to pull up from memory on those mornings I'm running out to start the cars when the temperatures are below freezing. I'm like a squirrel except instead of nuts, I'm gathering memories to sustain me through the winter months.

Happy memory catching. And Happy Love Thursday.