24

June
2015

4:21 pm

parched

Listening to light rain fall. Wishing for more.

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20

June
2015

5:43 pm

for all the non-gearheads

Have a little nature:

Cool green tunnel.

Cool green tunnel.

Holly or something. Probably not holly.

Holly or something. Probably not holly.

Daisy bugs on daisy.

Daisy bugs on daisy.

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20

June
2015

3:00 pm

new stuff

(Note: geeky and self-centred gear talk. If not your thing, consider yourself warned.)

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18

June
2015

1:50 pm

nothing special

(from yesterday’s notes):

Today’s ride: Kensington Lands. I was just going to do a turn through the 707, as per always, but Nola offered to come with me so that meant we could go farther afield, though by car to start as Nola didn’t have time to play for long.

bottle

Metal bottle. Does not leak. Made by Klean Kanteen.

So maybe not so many kilometres, but the company is all that I could wish for! Right now we’re stopped on a mossy bank underneath some pines or firs or something, there are a lot of them, and listening to bees and chirpy insects and nothing else. Seriously, there's nothing else, barring a very faint low hum from a plane overhead. Oh, and Nola’s typing, which is much clickier than mine.

trees and bikes

Pines or firs and things. Also bikes.

Hard life, eh? I lay on my back and watched the birds in the tops, and Nola typed away on her iPad, and after awhile we rode back to the trailhead. She drove home, and I rode, listening to someone talented read The Hound of the Baskervilles. As usual, I got back just at the climax, so will have to wait till this afternoon to find out about the glowing phosphorescent HOUND!

I do hope that’s not a spoiler.

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16

June
2015

9:28 pm

dog brain

ME (calling the dog in from the back porch): C’mon, Cardhu, let’s go! Last pee! Good boy!

HER (as I lead the dog from back door to front door) Did you just bring the dog in to take him out the front?

ME: Yes. We work with the dog brain we have.

--

Oh, hey, check out this absolutely awful picture of a raccoon I took just now:

raccoon in cherry tree

We don’t actually get to eat any of our cherries.

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