"Johnny and I started our relationship with letters. Not email, but actual lick-the-stamp letters. Letters to him in jail, to be precise."
Back to baking, but only for a second.
I'm much too messy and my kitchen's much too small for this to return to being a weekly thing.
Pita bread though: easy and crowd-pleasing. Truthfully this felt more like what you would get if naan and pita had a baby. I wished there were more process photos, but the recipe was too simple to resist. The recipe says bake on medium. I took that to mean cook on the stove, in a frying pan. The outcome was great, with or without hummus.
I went to a bike race. It wasn't the worst.
I took a feed for the first time, and while I didn't fall off my bike, I did hurl my bottle at a stranger unintentionally.
Got dropped and managed to get back on, only to get dropped again.
I rode 29 minutes of a 40 minute crit. It was the longest 29 minutes of my life.
I took part in a time trial and wondered the entire time if I was going fast or slow. I was going kind of slow it turns out. I discovered that having somebody hold your bike while you're clipped in waiting to start is far more stressful than the actual time trialling for me at least.
I signed up for a stage race thinking I would race only with the Cat 3s, but it turned out to be 1/2/3.
Baptism by fire.
Saying no to coffee shop scones because getting dropped is getting boring.
Saying no to rain jackets and practical footwear, saying hell yes to these not so comfortable and definitely not made for the rain loafers and wet hair and long walks home.
And, by "hell yes," I mean the bus I was on played chicken with a Hyundai turning left. Everybody was fine, even the man who yelled "my neck" before running off the bus as if he were guilty of something.
I took it as a sign, plugged my headphones in and started walking.
Somewhere over California, we looked out of our window and saw a little bit of blue. We ooohed and ahhhed and guessed like pair of fools what body of water it might be. Really, we were just happy to be seeing something other than snow.
Prickly plants abound, but as I would quickly learn, it's the lemon trees you have to watch out for. No better moment than the one in which you're trying to pick a piece of fruit than to realize that thorns make a whole lot of sense.
This makes me laugh, regularly, to the point of tears. If you can't understand it, it's worth learning Somali for.
Marbles: Mania, Depression, Michelangelo, and Me: A Graphic Memoir