Sunday, 21 March 2021
Every time I dress for the bike, I think that I'll miss those five
extra pockets when it's warm enough to wear only one jersey.
But what I use the extra pockets for is mostly spare handkerchiefs,
and I won't need so many in warm weather. I vividly remember a spring
when I was coming back from a long ride and was on Wooster Road not
far from the place where it becomes 7th Street. I pulled my
handkerchief out of my pocket, and was startled that it was a brown
napkin: this was the first time that day that I had seen it.
Saturday was a perfect day for an all-day ride, but Duck, Down, and
Above isn't open on weekends. I could have gone on Friday, but I'd
done my very first drive-to-two-grocery-stores-and-go-right-inside
trip on Thursday, and didn't feel up to getting ready.
But I had two cans of "aspic" cat food that were really carageenan,
and Al had caught on that carageenan isn't food. He has shown that
he'd rather starve to death than eat something that isn't food, he's
older than I am, measured by life expectancy, and I can buy cat food
in more than one store now, so I decided to dump the aspic at the
animal shelter, come back by way of Sprawlmart (after getting two cans
of cat food at Tractor Supply, which is just across US 30 from the
shelter), and continue into Warsaw to buy supper at Bomy Singh's
Authentic Indian Food.
I went by way of Wilcox Road to make the ride longer, and because
traffic on Pierceton Road is at exactly the maximum-annoyance volume:
sparse enough that every overtaking car is an emergency, heavy enough
that the emergencies come one right after another.
Turning back onto Wooster Road from the animal shelter, I cut through
the trailer park to make the route a bit less monontonously familiar.
In doing so, I noticed that my front derailleur was sticking when I
shifted onto the smaller ring, presumably because I hardly ever use
the small ring, so I flipped back and forth between the rings, and it
did loosen up, but after a bit I shifted incautiously and unshipped
I hope I have time to forget what I learned next before I need the
1. If, in attempting to get the chain back on the chainwheel, you
flip the chain off on the other side, stop fiddling with the lever
immediately and get off the bike. Hand cleaner I carry, a crank
puller I don't.
The chain was wedged in pretty good, but by following it around and
trying to get the loose bit on the small chainwheel and fiddling with
the lever, I got it into a state where a mighty heave got it out.
2. Take your gloves off before setting to work. Grease can be gotten
off hands, but not gloves, and if all else fails, greasy hands can be
put inside clean gloves to keep from staining your jersey. I was
obliged to finish the ride without gloves because I was wearing my
best jersey. Luckily, the weather had gotten fairly warm by then, and
I might have taken them off anyway. (I think I got some grease on the
jersey before I wised up, but I was forthoughty enough to edge all the
pocket openings with black linen, so there are no stains.)
3. And the timeless: get your hand cleaner out of your pocket before
getting your hands dirty.
My hand cleaner is a lip-salve box of A&D ointment, which comes in
handy for many other uses.
Pause in narration to put gloves into a bucket and pour the detergent
for an entire load on them. Tomorrow is wash day.
Monday, 22 March, 2021
And I never got back to the computer. This morning I put enough water
in the bucket to float the gloves, and I've been shaking the bucket at
intervals while I sorted and washed the first load, which will
interrupt the narrative any minute now to put in the second load and
hang the first load on the line.
(Yes, I hear it beginning to spin.)
I was planning on a Taco Bell chalupa for lunch, but by the time I got
to Sprawlmart, I was too hungry to wait, so I ordered a small fries at
McDonald's to tide me over while I went through the dollar store and
rode the full length of Sprawlmart.
The gloves came out surprisingly clean, and I laid them on the pile of
gloves to dry.
Now it's nap time.
I opened one of the cans of food, and it was composed of sand-hard
grains. Al eats about half of each serving, but I put the other can
on the shelf of things to be gotten rid of.
By the time I got to Taco Bell, I was tired and the place looked
crowded. I reflected that it wouldn't be long before I got home and
didn't stop -- but that made the purchase of supper at Bomy Sing's
rather early. I bought a platter, and paid a dollar extra for a
spill-proof plate. I ate my half as soon as I got home, put the rest
in the fridge, and went to bed. When I woke up, Dave had just
finished his half.
We agree: I am definitely going back. Next time I'll try ordering a
twelve-ounce container and side dishes, and take a half-gallon
semi-disposable food box to put the container in in case it leaks.
There is some sort of seed in the rice. I'll have to look around the
grocery section to see what it is. That is the longest-grain rice I
have ever seen, and thinner than common long-grain rice.
joy beeson at centurylink dot net