There are many ways one can tell October has arrived in MY State besides looking at a calendar. The most obvious indicator is the weather, which was in the 40-degree range this morning. I had to wear a lined jacket for the first time since April, but I’m still stubbornly wearing shorts. Also since April, I haven’t had long pants over my legs for any reason. I think my shorts streak has lasted longer than my now-expired bike riding streak.
I seem to have gotten ahead of myself. Let’s go back to this morning when my friends brought me back to this world, thereby making this October 1st ride possible. Hopefully you recall from the last episode that I was reduced to a miniature size in my Magical Shrinking Machine just so I could play with my cartoon alter-ego at his level.
I could not wait to get out into the beauty that is October in Minnesota. My riding has been somewhat sporadic over the last week-and-a-half, due to me being a caretaker for The Feeshko after her knee surgery. Let me tell you, performing all of her daily tasks and running all kinds of extra errands and keeping track of her medications and helping her to be at least minimally mobile is a lot harder than I thought it would be . . . and it kind of cuts into my cycling time. My caretaking career should only last a few weeks, but it has given me a whole new respect for people like Laura who do it for years without complaint.
Now, in photo-documentary form, I’m going to resume the original subject of this post: October in Minnesota.
I missed the presidential debate the other night because I was still out of this world, but G-Three saw it and was disgusted by it and he was only too happy to get turned back into me via my amazing invention.
I get it. Minnesota, once a Democrat stronghold, is now considered a “battleground state.” I never thought it possible. As I rode back home today, I saw all the Biden signs and all the Trump signs. Then I saw that sign pictured above and felt compelled to turn back and get a picture of it.
For only about the second time in all these years, I got busted by the homeowner. She came running out the front door and said, “don’t worry, I wasn’t spying on you! I just saw you taking a picture of my sign because I work by the front window..”
“I wasn’t spying on you either,” I replied apologetically, “I just thought that sign was really cool.”
“Thank you! We bought it from a local artist for $20.”
“Really? I thought it was a homemade sign.”
“No, we saw it at an art fair and the artist told us all of her proceeds would be donated to an organization called “Women Seeking Election.” (To be honest, I can’t remember the exact name of the organization, but it was something like that.)
“Well, I think it’s great,” and I gave her a big thumbs-up as I started to ride away.
“Thank you, and I’ll be sure to tell the artist.”
“Awesome!” That exchange made my day. Bike riding is so much fun.