By Land and By Sea

I always experience mixed emotions on Sunday nights. I am usually winding down from a weekend filled with activity. I spend the evening being mellow so I can get to sleep at a reasonable hour and get some sleep so I can get up the next morning and go to work. I reflect on the fun from the weekend and dread going to work on Monday. I like my job, but I like weekends better than having to be in a cubicle at 8 AM on a Monday morning.

The weather is getting warmer, and Todd and I have been unsticking our butts from the couch. On Saturday morning we explored our town by canoe. There are loads of little ponds, rivers and lakes in Podunk just waiting for us to paddle through them.

We put the canoe in the water at Zeke’s Bridge, a boat launch where we often take to dogs for a swim. We ducked under the bridge and headed south. Eventually we paddled under I-95 and the lake thinned to a snake of a river. It’s times like these that I wish I had a crappy little digital camera I could just slip into my pocket. I have a very nice digital camera that I care a great deal about and would be extremely upset if I capsized in a canoe with it. So I will have to describe the scene for you.

The tunnel under the highway is a long creepy tunnel. It was about 8 or so feet wide and at least 30 feet high from the water and runs under the entire width of the highway--2 lanes and a breakdown lane on each side, and a large grassy median in the middle. As we canoed through it, the surface of the water was perfectly still, and the ceiling of the tunnel was perfectly reflected on the water’s surface. The reflection was so perfect that it appeared that the water was clear, and the ceiling of the tunnel was the bottom of the river beneath my canoe. I blinked several times at the optical illusion, trying to consciously convince myself of what I was seeing. The next time we go back there, I will bring my camera to show you. It was one of the cooler things I’ve seen in recent weeks.

Sunday found us playing with fiberglass resin in the workshop. We have some boat parts that we need to fix for the Big Restoration of 2009. I donned my safety glasses and mask, and sanded hardened fiberglass. Then I mixed batch after batch of fiberglass resin for another part we are fixing. While the fiberglass cured, we donned our bike shorts and put the bikes in the back of the truck.

Another great feature of Podunk is the bike paths. We discovered a map of a complex system of bike paths that extend all over the state, and all over New England. We’ve been exploring the parts in our town bit by bit; just 6 miles at a time until we get into better shape and can go for longer.

Today we parked the truck at the ice cream shop near the trail, and headed west. After a mile or two the paved bike path gave way to a dirt one. The trail follows the former railroad line, and crosses over old train bridges. I need to consult the book I just bought about the history of Podunk to see what the area looked like with a rail line going through it, because my imagination just isn’t cutting it. We stopped the ride at a defunct bridge with no surface on it then turned back. A friend has told me that the trail extends into Connecticut, and I would love to ride the whole thing one day soon.

But until then, I am watching the clock approach 9:00 PM, and am letting my eyes grow heavy. I wish I had one more Sunday, because Monday is a lousy way to spend one seventh of my life.

Bad Tired, Good Tired

Of course, on the first weekend where it feels like summer I have a sinus infection. I’ve been annoyingly sick for the last forever or so. I sit at my desk and cough all day. My co-workers cower and cringe as I walk by them in the hallways. The trash can under my desk was in constant used-tissue overflow.

On Thursday I left work at 9 or so in the morning and headed to the local walk-in clinic and left with a prescription for Augmentin. That was the same antibiotic that Todd had gotten a prescription for just a few days earlier. Because Todd and I share everything, we've been sharing the same sinus infection. (Thanks sweetie, it’s the gift that keeps on givin’.)

Friday afternoon my eyes grew heavy at work. I propped my head up against my left hand and watched my computer monitor grow blurry. Then I felt the tell-tale head bob. You know the one. The I-just-fell-asleep-at-my-desk-at-work head bob. After a quick search around my desk I decided that it would be a bad idea to try to prop my eyes open with paperclips. I switched off the computer, grabbed my keys and my bag, and said goodbye to my boss.

I have no recollection of the drive home. Luckily most of it is on the highway, where I puttered along in the right lane with my eyes glazed. Once home I fumbled up the stairs, fell into bed and was instantly asleep for nearly three hours.

Saturday the sun shone, and the mercury hit the 80s. And I slept through a lot of it. I had microbursts of energy, but then slept for hours after each one. The guilt of squandering the first summery day bummed me out. Badly. But I didn’t have the energy to enjoy it. My bike (with it’s new bike bell on the handlebar) sat untouched in the garage. Our canoe sat on its sawhorses, and its new paddles shone in the basement. All I had the energy for was reading and sleeping.

Today was different. This morning I woke up wired for sound. I danced around the room while we got dressed chirping away about an entire summery Sunday ahead of us. We had some tidying up to do, as Dad and his wife were visiting for a late lunch. We took the dogs swimming in the morning. I did the laundry. Todd built a birthday present for his dad.

Dad and Anna arrived, and we had a very nice visit over Todd’s latest grill creations. Then we went for an ice cream and showed them the finer points of Podunk, RI. I believe we used the phrase “don’t blink.” As in, “OK, this is the center of town. Don’t blink, you’ll miss it.”

After Dad and Anna left, we piled the bikes into the car and headed for the bike path. We plotted an easy 3 mile route (see above, sinus infection) with Google Pedometer. But when we got to the end of the three miles, in no time flat, we took on 3 more miles.

The bike path was an old railroad line complete with train trestles. Turns out there is an entire network of bike paths in Rhode Island that we vaguely heard of, but never bothered to completely check out and appreciate. We rode through the mud and got dirty. We stopped on a bridge that overlooked a waterfall to take a sip of water. I rang my little bell, and giggled over it.

My thighs, currently supporting my laptop, are showing the signs of exertion. Good tired.