I’ve been landscaping Edweena’s pen a bit. I’ve used plants she can eat, of course, and she was very pleased. She went straight over to one of the sedums and started to eat it. There are now two sedums and two hebes, which I hope will provide her something to browse on, some shade and some interest.
I’ve been thinking of why I want to learn to ride a motorbike – I have an increasing tendency to think things through nowadays.
It’s a whim. I like whims.
It’s a challenge, and a purposeful one too. It’ll get me places.
Driving is useful but pretty boring. This won’t be boring.
It will need my entire concentration, and I think that will be a good thing. I will have to be far more aware of reading the road, looking for changes in the road surface – whether it’s a pothole, a manhole cover, a patch of oil or a rough surface. Also, what other road users are doing or might do at any moment, completely unaware of a vulnerable novice puttering towards a junction. I relish that need for alertness.
I don’t search out danger for its own sake, but I am not particularly timorous physically. When I was Sir B’s pillion passenger on the dual carriageway at 70mph (I suppose), I was holding on tightly and thought “if something goes wrong or I let go, I’ll be dead. Better not let go, then” and it felt ok.
I am careful and sensible, but I’m conscious that this is possibly my last opportunity to be irresponsible. My children are all grown up and independent, I don’t have to worry about them. Russell’s fine about it, so that’s ok. I can please myself.
It’ll be fun to try. I find cycling pretty boring and it takes so long to get anywhere, though non-weightbearing exercise is good for me.
I like something new, I enjoyed riding pillion but it wasn’t enough.
I think I’m coming back to the whim now, and why not?