Easing In

by

The week starts out with a three hour nap.

Thank you Jeebus.

That was amazing.

Now, I expect the other shoe to drop, no napping for the rest of the week, explosive diapers, teething atrocity, baby bedlam.

Not really.

There is no other shoe that is about to drop.

I have quietly, slowly, even at times, painfully, discovered this.

The anxiety about what may or may not happen in the future, anytime near or far, is just not worth holding onto.

Although John Ater has mentioned to me that perhaps I should worry more, because none of the things that I worry about actually happen.

I usually spend a few minutes after getting back from a Rockridge adventure after work, trying to force myself to wind down.

Must go to bed.

Must go to bed.

Must write.

Must write short, pithy blog that readers will appreciate reading and I will feel sense of accomplishment for having typed so fast my fingers are sore.

Speaking of sore fingers I may find myself reverting back to a bicycle riding prop that I have not used in years–gloves.

My hands and wrists are getting sore from the long commute.

I don’t mind the commute, although today, shocker, like every day, I did observe a few things.

“Queens not Hoes” was white washed over on the wall of the building it was splashed across.

Queens not garden rakes.

So sweet.

Instead of the sweet, albeit grammatically incorrect graffiti, the new artist had put up a splashy “Everyone is Trayvon” graffiti.

But it was not well done and it was not worth the stop in my bicycle commute to document with my camera.

I almost did not take out my camera on my way home either, although I expressly brought it with me after last nights spectacular moon rise.  I did not want to miss another opportunity to take that kind of photograph.

However, the banks of clouds were not parting to show off the rising moon, it stays hidden behind heavy purple clouds that look as though they might drop an unexpected summer torrent of rain.

Instead, when in the moment, I looked back to gauge my timing to turn left, I have to cross two lanes and then pop into the turn lane right after 50th, I saw the sky behind me on fire.

I swung over to the gutter, took my feet out of my Hold Fast straps (pedal retention like cages) and managed to pull out my camera and catch a few shots before seeing a perfect gap in the traffic to shoot over.

I took a few shot, bundled up the camera, and pedaled quick and fast across the road way before the next onslaught of trucks jacked up on huge rims, flashing silver and white.

I was thinking about pulling over by Talk of the Town and taking some photographs of the neon signage outside the bar, but there were too many gentlemen of the drunken variety and a posse of young men across the street obviously holding.

I did not stop.

Although, given the chance I will.

I did like the shots I got though.

Kelley Moore Paints

Kelley Moore Paints

Sunset

International Avenue

Sunset Reflections

Reflections

 

 

I had another moment today when I wanted to take some photographs, but only because I planned on being the nanny police and turning in a little riot of teenager drinkers and smokers in the park that I took my charge to.

Really?

Must you roll and light up that blunt right there?

Really?

And then smoke it too?

Come on.

The entire playground was rife with pot smoke.

Then I heard the smashing of a bottle on the ground, a flask had been passed around and dumped into the bottles of Ocean Spray Cranberry Cocktail in the quartet’s busy paws.

I am not surprised by underage drinking or drugging.

Not really.

I am not normally so nosy, either.

But I was pissed.

They were babies with babies.

The stroller was a trashed out single mom ghetto stroller that you might see a homeless man pushing.

However, I was quite aware that the fifth person in the group was napping and his/her legs were dangling out the bottom of the carriage while the two girls and two guys drank and passed around the blunt.

I just had to let it go.

What was I going to do?

Call CPS.

At least they weren’t smoking crack in the park.

At least the kid was napping.

I mean, who am I to judge?

I think I know better, but it’s not my kid and I can’t rescue them, I can hardly rescue me.

I just turned my attention to where it needed to be, on the tow-headed joy of a little girl I had right in front of me demanding to go down the swirly slide.

“Up, up, up, up,” she said, raising her arms and pleading with me with bright shiny eyes.

“All rewards, but none of the work, eh?” I asked her.

“PEASE!”

Ok, I am a sucker for a kid who uses please.

I lifted her up and tipped her over the side at the top of the swirly slide and watched her happy and content twirl down the green plastic slide.

She told me when it was time to go.

“Home.”

And walked me to the gate when it was time.

We walked back, picked jasmine, smelled the flowers, talked to a puppy, talked to a drive way, pointed out dad’s car, and showed up at home for “Na, nas”.

Food.

She ate half my apple today, half of an avocado, black beans, turkey, cheese, blueberries until the cows came home, and a few yogurt Puffs.

Baby crack.

But good for keeping the hands busy when you need to attend to something.

We played stickers, read about poop, and sang songs.

Not a bad way to start the week.

And I managed to get my camera out too.

Week has officially begun.

What’s next?

I am ready.

 

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