Dear Diary, I wonder about the sanity of this household!
Jake lounges around, his leg awkward, his tight jeans exchanged for an old pair of track pants that make him look as though he should be in practice for the marathon.
I rose late this morning; still weary from the exertion yesterday, but the excitement lingers. A relaxing warm bath with a dash of bath salts helped restore the feeling in my lower body that, I must admit, ached from unaccustomed cycling. The breakfast table looked bright; Niece had placed a lovely vase of stocks in the centre, their delightful musky perfume overpowered the aroma of toast and marmalade. There was an air of excitement that encompassed the kitchen; an air that I could not immediately place. My curiosity was soon rewarded. One thing about Niece, and I have noticed a similar reaction from Karen, which I guess does show that blood ties are strong, is the fact they can not keep their excitement to themselves. Instead of letting me settle down quietly and eat my breakfast they bustled around, making sure I didn't want another cup of coffee, and asking if I felt like another slice of toast. Dear Diary, they know full well I am a two slice toast person and one cup of coffee with breakfast, and another half an hour later. By that time I am ready to face the day.
Their excitement was contagious. Curiosity overcame me and I blurted out, "Come on, fill me in with the details! I know you two are scheming something!"
For a moment I considered the prospect of a wedding as soon as Jake's leg healed. But Jake was not in this equation. The moment the last sip of my first cup of coffee left the cup Niece and Karen enticed me outdoors to the shed, where Niece's man was messing with two ramshackle bikes. I recall Niece riding the blue one when she was a schoolgirl, but the other, a maroon model was new to me; but definitely not new to the world. Where had they acquired it? Information was forthcoming. In excited bursts of conversation the whole story emerged.
After I retired last night to fall into bed exhausted, [well almost exhausted ... I must be truthful Dear Diary], Niece and Karen had sneaked my tricycle out again, and taken it for a quick ride around the yard. They were entranced! I wondered if it was the colour? After all, no one had ever seen a lime-green tricycle before. In fact, neither had seen an adult tricycle before. They came indoors and over a quiet wine made plans. Niece's man, Phil, remembered the bike in the shed, reckoned he could repair it with no trouble; phoned a mate of his whom he knew housed an ancient bike in his back shed, coerced him into selling it for a few dollars, and this morning set about bringing them both into a suitable riding state. Karen and Hester were going for a ride the following afternoon ... not far, but far enough that they need take a lunch. The highlight, Dear Diary, was their invitation for me to accompany them.
I hope Phil manages to fix those bikes today, and find new tyres for them. I did notice the tyres were perished. Tomorrow the girls go for a ride!
Jake lounges around, his leg awkward, his tight jeans exchanged for an old pair of track pants that make him look as though he should be in practice for the marathon.
I rose late this morning; still weary from the exertion yesterday, but the excitement lingers. A relaxing warm bath with a dash of bath salts helped restore the feeling in my lower body that, I must admit, ached from unaccustomed cycling. The breakfast table looked bright; Niece had placed a lovely vase of stocks in the centre, their delightful musky perfume overpowered the aroma of toast and marmalade. There was an air of excitement that encompassed the kitchen; an air that I could not immediately place. My curiosity was soon rewarded. One thing about Niece, and I have noticed a similar reaction from Karen, which I guess does show that blood ties are strong, is the fact they can not keep their excitement to themselves. Instead of letting me settle down quietly and eat my breakfast they bustled around, making sure I didn't want another cup of coffee, and asking if I felt like another slice of toast. Dear Diary, they know full well I am a two slice toast person and one cup of coffee with breakfast, and another half an hour later. By that time I am ready to face the day.
Their excitement was contagious. Curiosity overcame me and I blurted out, "Come on, fill me in with the details! I know you two are scheming something!"
For a moment I considered the prospect of a wedding as soon as Jake's leg healed. But Jake was not in this equation. The moment the last sip of my first cup of coffee left the cup Niece and Karen enticed me outdoors to the shed, where Niece's man was messing with two ramshackle bikes. I recall Niece riding the blue one when she was a schoolgirl, but the other, a maroon model was new to me; but definitely not new to the world. Where had they acquired it? Information was forthcoming. In excited bursts of conversation the whole story emerged.
After I retired last night to fall into bed exhausted, [well almost exhausted ... I must be truthful Dear Diary], Niece and Karen had sneaked my tricycle out again, and taken it for a quick ride around the yard. They were entranced! I wondered if it was the colour? After all, no one had ever seen a lime-green tricycle before. In fact, neither had seen an adult tricycle before. They came indoors and over a quiet wine made plans. Niece's man, Phil, remembered the bike in the shed, reckoned he could repair it with no trouble; phoned a mate of his whom he knew housed an ancient bike in his back shed, coerced him into selling it for a few dollars, and this morning set about bringing them both into a suitable riding state. Karen and Hester were going for a ride the following afternoon ... not far, but far enough that they need take a lunch. The highlight, Dear Diary, was their invitation for me to accompany them.
I hope Phil manages to fix those bikes today, and find new tyres for them. I did notice the tyres were perished. Tomorrow the girls go for a ride!
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