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The Day Began With Perfect Expectations....But....

Tuesday, May 31, 2016


As ribbons of light from the early morning sun streamed through my bedroom window I awoke with thoughts of sunshine, the smell of leather, and the rumble of pipes filling my still groggy mind.

It was a perfect day for for a much awaited ride on the bikes. As I downed my coffee I pulled my long blonde hair into a pony tail, jumped into my jeans, selected a shirt, socks, tied up my boots and was off to the garage to ready the baby to ride.

We warmed the bikes, checking all crucial components, geared up, and took off for what we thought was going to be an incredible day of feeling the wind, seeing the country, and being free for the day.

We were about three miles into our ride when one of the bikes sputtered, backfired, and quit. I had been leading and in my mirror saw the bike pulled to the side of the road.

I climbed off of my steel horse, took off my helmet, placed it on the road behind my bike (the sign of a rider in trouble) and walked back to see what was going wrong.

THIS is the signal for needing help


The bike would start then die, start then die. He placed his helmet on the road behind his bike. If you are a BIKER you know the sign that a brother needs help.

We happen to live in a rather affluent (read clueless) area where most "bikers" put about 1500 miles a year on their bikes. They're not bikers, they're people that own a Harley and a shirt.

People, everyone, if you see a motorcycle on the side of the road, with a helmet behind it on the ground, someone is asking for help.

We watched the "weekenders," probably at least 30 motorcycles, as they passed by and waved. ONE bike did stop, but there was nothing he could do, but he stopped!

I walked back to my bike, laid in the sun and awaited further instruction, help, or whatever was going to happen.

Miraculously a van stopped and a man with a baby got out. I heard a whistle signaling me to approach. As I neared the bike the man that had stopped looked familiar. Then he removed his sun glasses. It was a very good friend of my oldest son that I hadn't seen in years!

He had no idea who he was stopping to help, but he knew the signal and stopped. He helped us get the bike running well enough to get it home, then came over about an hour later and they tinkered with it some more.

Kyle, thank you. You are a gentleman, a biker, and a friend. I find it ironic the kid I have known for 15 years or so had no idea as to whom he was stopping to help and as it turned out it was his good friend's mom and her boyfriend.

People, riders, everyone, if you see a bike(s) with a helmet on the ground behind them they need help. Possibly they haven't been able to reach anyone because their phone had died, perhaps another reason, but at least stop and ask if they need something. If you don't feel comfortable at least pull up, crack your window and ask what the problem is. You could very well be the one that makes the difference between life and death.

As to all the "bikers" that waved and smiled as they rode by, sell your toy and take up golf. You're SO not bikers and you should be ashamed of yourselves.

I do have to say, all things considered, I'm very thankful it was Kyle, the guy in a mini van with a baby, that stopped. Thank you Kyle. You so rock!

It was planned to be a good day

Loving my pony tail in the mirror

At least I had a great view

Not a happy biker

Need some help here

Taking a break

Catching some rays
Help arrived! Divine intervention!

If you're going to ride learn the signals.

xoxoxo

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The Shower

Sunday, May 15, 2016

I awoke this morning amidst a heavy feeling of foreboding. I had much to do and my first thoughts were to burrow beneath the blankets, close my eyes, and sleep throughout the day. It was a much desired wish that I knew could not be fulfilled. 

Mentally I ran down my list and knew there would be no way of getting through it unless autopilot was engaged and feelings set aside. The anticipation of entering my sanctuary at day’s end permeated the gaps in my thoughts.

Then the time came. I closed the solid, five paneled, cherry door, and studied the weary eyes that stared back at me from the mirror. I walked into the massive shower, turned on the waterfall head allowing the water to warm, then stepped out to ready myself for the release that would soon follow.

The tumbled marble was cool beneath my feet as I removed my clothing and dropped it in a heap on the floor. While waiting for the water to heat I studied my face. I looked tired, frustrated, and in much need of relaxation.

I examined my bare body. It didn’t show the strain I had been enduring. I could feel the tightness in my jaw, my neck, and radiating down my back. However, my skin looked soft, my tattoos, that are usually veiled by clothing, were vibrant, colorful, and brought a bit of a smile to my face. The diamond sitting in my navel shone brightly and I thought of other women my age and how differently we have chosen to care for, and express ourselves.

I noticed steam filling the shower and knew the time was right to step into the peace it would most certainly bring. I held my head back allowing the water to fall directly onto my face before it covered the curves of my body. I could feel the length of my long, blonde, locks touch the center of my back, and I sensed the heaviness of the day begin to lift.

I breathed deeply, for what seemed an eternity, before reaching for the shampoo and lathering my hair. With my eyes closed I took the steam into my lungs, massaged my scalp, then watched the foam form paths down my saturated torso as I rinsed the thick bubbles from my flaxen tresses.

Slowly, methodically, I finished the ritualistic, yet symbolic, cleansing of both body and soul. I took my time and enjoyed the solitude and the sound of falling water. I stood motionless as I consciously, and deeply, breathed in the warm, thick air. As I exhaled I allowed the weight, and burdens, of the day to escape and be carried down the drain by the heavenly, healing, water.

I stepped from the shower and covered myself in a thick, luxurious, Egyptian cotton, towel. I wrapped my still damp hair, wiped the foggy mirror, and saw a face with much less stress, and felt my soul had been liberated from the mishaps of the days that have passed.

I’m now relaxing in the comfort of my bed, my head resting on down filled pillows. The lights are dim and the only sound is coming from the television with the volume low. My eyes are heavy, my head is clear, and the the fight I have yet to finish can wait until another day. As for now it’s time to close my eyes, let sleep envelope me, and leave today in the past forever.

Sweet Dreams,

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