Counting the Days

I'm back to work two weeks now. I have a handicapped parking pass which helps, but mostly I try to find the route of least resistance through facilities to where I need to be.

The cane has been getting less and less use. First around the house, then leaving it at home when walking the dog, limping around the neighborhood. Finally, leaving it in the car when going to the grocery store or where ever. I think in another week I'll be fully free of elderly devices. In the garage I have a shower bench, a walker, a portable toilet, a four-footed cane, a pair of crutches already.

Going back to work has made the days pass much more quickly. Of course when I get home I barely stay awake through the Tour De France coverage. Having the Tour to watch is a God-send too as it keeps my mind elsewhere while A and I wait for the kid to get a burr up his butt and come out to join us. Any day now.

The little man has been estimated to already weigh 9 lbs. One has to turn the page back in both our genealogies to find that kind of bulk. A has uncles, cousins and a grandfather who'd make better kilo riders than climbers. I know my cousin Kevin was a chubby kid. When we were 19 or 20 he wasn't too much taller than me and much leaner than when we were 10, but as kids he could sit on me and it meant game over for me in whatever disagreement we had.

At any rate, I have work and Le Tour to fill my nervous energy while we wait. It would sure be nice to go for a bike ride though. Even just along the Spring water, either to the end of town or to the waterfront. Just to turn the legs. To feel the wind and hear it pass while the chain makes it's subtle rhythm. I'll Probably not experience that until next spring with the kid in the Dutch cargo bike I'll have by then. But first I need to stop walking like a pirate.