Decisions, decisions, decisions. I hate decisions. Why can’t we all be nomadic and wander through life like star crossed lovers bound to eternal solitude. Why?
I don’t have the answer to that but I did make some decisions. Of the which I am not at liberty to discuss right now but I would like to talk about what motivated me to decide what it is that I decided. (Do you think I could be any more ambiguous?)
First up, I have not been happy at work as of late. I was stuck in the proverbial rut from which few find escape. I had been thinking about this for some time, KB and I had talked about options, but for now I am where I was. One thing I had realized is that I had pretty much ceased to write. Nothing in Cycling Utah, both of my blogs were dead in the water, I missed writing. This is why you are now seeing more consistent posts from the Alliance Headquarters and you should see my first article to be published in months in July’s Cycling Utah with stories coming consistently from here on out. That little light of when I stick my fingers on the keyboard (there is no pen and paper any more) and watch the letters appear on the screen as they pop out of my mind, that little light was the start to saving me…
Then a miraculous thing happened on Wednesday, something that I hadn’t seen in a long time. Mr. Gurr rode to work. I’m not sure why that was such a big awakening for me but it was one of those moments when everything you’ve been looking at smashes into your forehead and you find what you were looking for was right in front of your face. I then proceeded to ride my bike to work on Thursday. I guess it reminded me of the why behind my work. It also reminded me of a time when apathy was low, militant ideals of cycling and how it can save the world was high and if anyone of us drove to work, it was a travesty. Ah, to return to those times…
I think I will try.
On to bigger and better news. It was Paul’s Befday.
So we celebrated at Wing Nutz last night which coincided with the Nutz Blues Night. Good music, good folk, okay beer. We can hope for everything but two out of three aint bad.
Don’t eat your popcorn too fast, cuz we’re moving on from here.
It was a few years ago when I went through a huge analysis of my life, my impact and where and what I wanted to be. The journey ended with me declaring my sovereignty, getting a tattoo and preaching DIY to everyone that would listen. Well the years have passed, the tattoo has faded, but DIY is bigger than ever.
Once KB and I moved back to SG we were able to procure residency in locations that have allowed us to have gardens for the past two years. I was super stoked about this (I wish the old site hadn’t crashed and lost everything so we could reference those thoughts and posts from the wonder years). Last year I watched the garden but wasn’t actively involved like I should have been. This year, KB planted and I watched, but then I started to take it over. And I am ecstatic that I did. I love my garden and love walking into my back yard and picking food, wonderful food.
Of course, KB and I can’t eat all these organically, locally grown veggies. If you want some let us know. I can even deliver to the greater SG area…
Here’s your Really?!? moment for the weekend.
For any of you who may have shown up for the Wednesday ride, I apologize I didn’t make it. The meeting, that I was assured wouldn’t last past 8:30 went till 9 and there was no way I was going to get out to the trailhead in time. My sincerest of apologies, I hope you rode without me.
Peace. Love. and Revolution.