Hot Day

Today I rode my bike to the garden. It's not far. Perhaps two blocks. I haven't ridden my bike maybe in two years. It killed my shoulders and neck to ride it because the fit was all wrong. So my son-in-law fixed it up, reworked it so I can sit more upright on the bike. And I must say, the fit is good. So there I am, my bag of seeds hooked over the left handle, zooming down the street past the Tennis Club to the interurban trail, and I had my reading glasses on. This is how I can tell I'm old. So I take them off and stick them down my shirt, which is where I keep many things, both large and small. I survived the few blocks to the garden, enthough though I potentially could have had a fatal accident when the furious mountain bikers passed me from the other direction, naming their numbers, two more, one more, last one, as they bolted past. They must be riding in tomorrow's Ski to Sea.

At the garden, I dug three digs and had to rest. It was much hotter outside than I realized. Who plans the weather? I do not know for sure. Anyway, a neighbor had found large bags of peat at Lowes, so I'll head there soon--perhaps Monday. I did manage to dig a few more square feet and rake things sooth. I planted some brocolli raab and some bok choy. Then I road back home, which was downhill all the way.