…I remembered I liked riding my bike. But I sold it to a young lady when I was home with my first born trying to recover from surgery and figure out how to nurse, and I was pacing the floors either waiting for the wee thing to wake up from her naps so we could go do something together or trying to get her to sleep so I could be rested and human again. And taking a bicycle out was not in my life frame.
This last Saturday, my husband and I went to the large chain store and came home with a bicycle just for me, a lovely beach cruiser. With a wicker basket.
My children were delighted! The next day we came home from worship, took a few hours to rest, and then all took off to the nearby bicycle trails that had us going up hills and down hills and round corners and through the summery woods dotted with sunshine. We ended up at the local country store and filled my basket with ice cream sandwiches and chocolate bars, and then parked our bodies on the old, old used-ta-be ferry pier to partake. I’m on the far right in the picture; my husband pulled along little Ruby in a trailer. She loved it, all 7 1/2 miles of it!
The first bicycle I remember owning was a pink one with a banana seat. I remember cruising all over the neighborhoods, up and down the curbs, racing my friends to the park every afternoon after school. I find the current empty afternoon neighborhoods creepy. Where are all the kids?
I was nervous riding a bicycle again, but like the cliche, it came back to me. Funny how those little things from girlhood can do that; and if I allow them to, they bring along some pretty happy moments.