2020-05-26 – Hope y’all had a good weekend. I did. Let me tell you about the day I had yesterday.

I woke up, put on my pants, got the leash and took Rebe for her first walk of the day. This is the peep and poop walk. So Rebe poops and pees and I pick up the poop and take it to the trash.

Then it’s time to make breakfast for me and Poppy the cat and for Rebe the dog. My breakfast is oatmeal with raisins, cranberries, and nuts. I have no idea what’s in the food for the pets.

After breakfast, I filled a water bottle (I should have filled two), grabbed my helmet and mask, and schlepped my bike up the basement stairs, flipped on my new ride-tracking app, and headed out for a ride.

I wasn’t sure how far I would go, but I had to decide before I got to the end of the street (5 blocks). Right turn would be 30 miles. Left turn would be 40. Since my tracking app was new, I stopped briefly to make sure it was working. It was, but unfortunately it was showing kilometers. Still, it was working. I figured that I could convert the numbers at the end. I decided to go for the 40-mile ride—same as my Saturday ride so that I could compare the results from the new app to the old one.

Plus, the 40-mile route is quite beautiful. I have a number of beautiful routes, but most of them are closed due to the pandemic. I only have one beautiful ride left. (I’m sure there are others to be found, but I haven’t found them yet.)

On Saturday’s ride, my knee began hurting at around mile 20 and I started to tire around mile 30. Yesterday’s ride was better. No knee pain. Not as tired. At several points along the ride, I looked at the app, and it didn’t seem to be showing the right number (based on my mental math converting metric to miles). But no problem, I could just use the data from Saturday’s ride. That’s why I took the 40-mile route—just in case the app didn’t work.

The weather was great. Upper 70s, low 80s. Absolutely, comfortable—except when I had to stop. It’s amazing how fast the heat returns when you stop. And my glasses fog up because of the mask. (No fog when I’m moving.)

When I returned Saturday, I mowed the lawn. Yesterday, no lawn. Ramen in soup for lunch, then the chore was to clean the grill, which was unused since last year. Then an hour copyediting my novel and then I did my Spanish work.

We have a couple neighborhood kids who come by (in masks) to visit the dog. One of them came by for a half hour. Then I had to start the potatoes (inside) and get the fire started in the grill (outside). I had steaks to grill. Kit made a great salad. And we opened a couple of beers.

Then it was time to clean up.

I’ll leave it at that. Nice day, right?

But what if I told you that yesterday I had to pick up dog shit, put on a stupid mask, carry a heavy bike up the stairs, cope with a failed app, rode a ridiculously long bike ride in hot weather, with a mask, and fogged up glasses, cleaned a grill, and washed everyone’s dishes.

Same story.

When I hear people complaining about having to wear masks, I hear them telling the story of their life the second way. So often, when I look at their Facebook pages, they tell the stories of their lives the same way.

Not everything is a friggin chore.

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