I think we shall have a counting day, it's Tuesday, and Tuesdays are not known for anything in particular, except for being the second or third day of the week, depending on where you live in the world.
First off: the number of things I can now bike on, over or through;
1) Asphalt, cement (both smooth, so they count as one): check
2) Dirt (easy, schmeezy): check
3) Sand (yes, no stops to walk through the sand pits today): check!
4) Gravel (which only last week made my knees quake from terror): check
5) Bits of brick to fill in absent gravel: check!
6) Tree roots on a darkened path: check
My feet did not leave the pedals from start to finish either way on our daily ride today, uphill, over bumps, big and small, through the woods, along the fields.
Funny: number of routes suggested by all those who hear we ride out to Pierre's parents' house by bike: 17. It is only a 6-7 mile ride!
Next: number of doggy-doo we counted on one side of the street on our way to great-grandma's house, just one block, mind you: 13.
Number of things I am grateful to have remembered to bring with me: 2; long t-shirts to cover all my parts when I bike, and the cropped pants that make the ride comfortable.
Number of times Pierre and I have been out to eat at a restaurant in the past month and a half: 1. We escaped the other day at noon as soon as the in-laws had picked up the kids. We rode our bikes the short bit of a way downtown in the warm sunshine. We found a little bistrot with a table in the sun, and ordered a big salad. Here are the pictures. It was a "compose your own" affair. They bring you a slip of paper and you check off everything you'd like on your salad, they bring it back all beautiful and ready to go. Since I really don't like buffets or salad bars, and I am a little bit picky, it was a perfect option.
Number of paragraphs I will add to this too-long list: Zero!
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