Baseball, Bikes and Track

Phew! The weather is over the top amazing around these parts and the air is brimming with the scent of blooming flowers. There are no clouds here, only sun. At least this weekend.

First up: baseball Friday. A spin on the bike. An unbelievably amazing dinner with unbelievably amazing company and amazingly unbelievable wine. And did I mention a surprise dessert that involved homemade ice cream, lemon and strawberries? Mmmm hmmmm.

Oh. And lest we forget, the doggie sleepover and doggie haircut (don't ask) for a dog that is not exactly expected to get haircuts?

And of course, baseball Saturday. A lovely morning whereby I did not freeze my tail off as a spectator and instead enjoyed bleacher butt from a very cozy chair in the sun with friends and family and a very large coffee?

There were also beautiful bike rides Saturday. And did I mention that my friends rock and the weather rocked and the beer was cold and the sun burnt me into a crispy fried thing and there were pickled eggs?

There was also 50 miles of riding and some dubachery and a little Kentucky Derby action to boot. There was a whole lot of laughter which goes without saying, some bad pizza that tasted damned good and pickled eggs and turkey giblets. I mean, can a person possibly live through a biking Saturday without locating turkey giblets and a pickled eggs?

I think not.

We followed this up with a little night ride, fat turkey burgers, a lovely salad, some fruit smoothies, brownies, and another sleepover.

As my kid said: mmmm good day, mom. actually GREAT day!

Then Sunday low and behold there was more sun and therefore more bikes. There was also a birthday party.

Happy 80th Grandma!

And one god awful headwind on the way to said party, which we rode to. Then some jello at the party (green, yellow, AND red), some cake at the party, some wow amazing beef sandwiches at the party. And potato salad. And scotcharoos. And milano cookies. And a long ride home stuffed with food/shit in what presumably was to be a tailwind but was not really a tailwind at all.

THEN there was track practice. Where I watched my kid run full blast around a track again and again. It just happened to be the same track I ran circles on through high school. I sat lamenting with another of the kids' dads at how wonderfully simple the mind of a young boy is when he is with his buddies, a baton, and a track.

There is nothing else, really.
Just running.
And buddies.
Cloudless days.
Laughter.

Then dinner, scrubbing the dirt from my kid and me and bed.

Oh sweet bed.

Except my bed was taken over sometime after midnight by a boy having nightmares who spun and kicked me in the head the remainder of the slumber. And a dog, who finally puked up the pieces of the baseball glove she ate while locked in her own personal prison earlier that day.

All told: 150 road miles. 80 hellacious headwind miles. 1,000 memories. 1 left-handed kid pitcher who pitched and brought tears more times than I can count in a 48 hour period.

Amazing friends. Amazing weather. Perfect.

Did I mention I am tired? And in dire need of a nap?

And that the pickled eggs are $.75 but the turkey giblets are $1.50? And that the American Legion is really one of the finest institutions the dying county towns have going; and the 82 year olds who run them are really true American icons who should be filmed, photographed and memorialized while they are living?

Again, I digress. You ought to see my tan lines.