Monday, August 31, 2015

My Bike is Not a Vacuum Cleaner! (or, a Little Romance Goes a Long Way)

An object is never just an object: It is a symbol for the experience it enables. It is a catalyst for a series of associations. It is a keeper and evoker of memories. An object can inspire, impress, or depress. An object can leave us cold or it can excite us. All of this depends on how we feel (or don't feel) about the experiences it symbolises.




This is why I cannot get on board with the idea that our relationship to the bicycle ought to be exclusively utilitarian, devoid of romance or sentimentality. In his discussions about developing a successful bicycle culture, the author of Copenhagenize.com likes to compare the Danish attitude towards the bicycle with that to the vacuum cleaner:


"We all have a vacuum cleaner, we've all learned how to use it and we all use it. But we don't go around thinking about our vaccum in the course of a day. Only when the bag is full do we roll our eyes and sigh. Kind of like when our tire is flat/chain is loose and we chuck our bike into the bike shop.

We don't have a 'stable' of vacuum cleaners. We don't ...wave at other 'avid' vacuum cleaning 'enthusiasts' whilst we clean. The relationship to our bicycles is the same as to our vacuum cleaners. They're both merely incredibly effective and useful tools for making our daily lives easier."



While I respect Mr. Colville-Andersen's work and agree with him on many issues, this insistence on stripping the bicycle of emotional and personal value is misguided and philosophically flawed.




Though on some level, both the bicycle and the vacuum cleaner are utilitarian objects, the type of experiences they represent could not be more different. A vacuum cleaner evokes associations with: order, work, domesticity, obligation, enclosed spaces, headache-inducing noise, and boredom. A bicycle evokes associations with: movement, freedom, independence, wind in your hair, the outdoors, and joy. It is only natural the the latter invites emotional connectedness and the former does not. An object is never just an object.



The fact that the bicycle performs the very practical function of transporting us from one place to another need not compete with the fact that it inspires romanticisation; the two things are not at odds. On the contrary: It seems to me that the very reason the bicycle is so appealing, is its potential to transform ordinary acts of everyday travel into magical experiences of beauty, fantasy, joy and freedom. My bike is not a vacuum cleaner, and I do not feel silly for loving it.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Watkins Glen State Park Take Two

We headed back over to Watkins Glen State Park late this afternoon. I'm happy to report that the skies stayed sunny this time so we were able to stay and see all of the waterfalls. This has been one of the most surprising things that we've seen so far. Meaning it was unexpectedly awesome.



The hike is not very long, but the entire walk is breathtaking so it was one of my favorite hikes so far. We went late in the afternoon so the lighting was fabulous, giving this place an almost fairy land glow. We especially loved this place:

From the state park website: Watkins Glen State Park is the most famous of the Finger Lakes State Parks, with a reputation for leaving visitors spellbound.

Within two miles, the glen's stream descends 400 feet past 200-foot cliffs, generating 19 waterfalls along its course.

The gorge path winds over and under waterfalls and through the spray of Cavern Cascade. Rim trails overlook the gorge.

This place was so awe inspiring. I'm so glad we were able to see it. It is days like this that I am so incredibly grateful for this life we are living right now and the chance to take in our country's beauty in new ways. It keeps me grounded in all of the reasons that we do this, even when some parts can feel difficult. It's more than worth it.



Living the life in New York!

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Lost China Dishes

This is my set of china dishes. We certainly couldn't afford anything like this at any time during the 40 years we have been married. But I was lucky enough to find a set. No, I didn't buy them at a yard sale or anything, I actually found them.
We moved into a house in about 1976 and there was what I thought was a dog house in the backyard. It was only about 4 feet tall, but about 6 feet long. We just thought it was what someone had cobbled up for a dog house considering the height of it. There was even a sort of door on it. My dog didn't seem interested in going in it and I didn't want her to until I had a chance to clean it up some. In a few weeks I did deside to clean it so that it could be used. I moved the piece of board acting as a door and crawled in since I couldn't stand up right in it. To my surprise there was a large cardboard box in the back of the short shed. I had hubby crawl in and do a check for spiders, snakes, and dead bodies of any kind and he came back out pulling the box after him. Inside the box was this set of china dishes. There are a couple of the salid plates missing but other wise it is the complete set. It is made my Imperial China and the pattern is called Whitney, but couldn't find out when it was made. I found it on the internet under several sites for older china and it is running about $10 per piece now. I would guess that is about what it sold for new.

New film downloads in the shop







I have just added HD downloads of the Hot Aches Productions films to the shop. So now you have a cheaper and more instantaneous way to watch the classic climbing films: The Long Hope, The Pinnacle, Committed 1, Committed 2, Wideboyz, Odyssey and Monkey See Monkey Do. You’ll find them all here.




The DVD options are still there too of course...

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Joslin Family :: 1830 Census Delaware County, Ohio

The 1820 census of Delaware County, Ohio included only one Joslin family, that of Jonas Joslin. The 1830 census includes just two Joslin families: Jonas and James, both in Liberty township, listed seventh and fifth from the bottom of page 85. Additional research provides us with the names and ages within the square brackets.

The probable household of Jonas Joslin:
  • 1 male under 5 [1825-1830... grandson, John, age 2, born June 1828]
  • 1 male 20-29 [1800-1810... son Jonas Jr., 23, born February 1807]
  • 1 male 60-69 [1760-1770... Jonas Sr., 61, born March 1769]
  • 2 females 15-19 [1811-1815... daughter Fanny, about 20, born about 1810 and one other, name unknown]
  • 1 female 20-29 [1800-1810... Lucy, 23, wife of Jonas Jr., born August 1807]
  • 1 female 50-59 [1770-1780... Ruth, 59, wife of Jonas Sr., born 1771]
Elizabeth, aged 16-25 in the 1820 census, was married to Milton Bartholomew according to "Abstracts from Miscellaneous Delaware County Ohio Newspapers 1821-1857" extracted by Mary V. Reed, Delaware County Genealogical Society, 1992, page 38. Citing the Franklin Chronicle, Worthington, Ohio of March 19, 1821: "Married on Thursday 15th inst. in Middlebury, Delaware County by Nathan Carpenter Esq. Mr. Milton Bartholomew to Miss Elizabeth Joslin." There were no entries for the two unknown females aged 16-25 that were in the Jonas Joslin household in 1820.

From published newspaper abstracts we learned that James and Abigail Joslin were married prior to June 30, 1826. The 1850 census and additional research gives us the names and dates within square brackets.

Probable members of the James Joslin household:
  • 1 male under 5 [1825-1830... son Edwin, age 1, born December 1829]
  • 1 male 5-9 [1820-1825... son Lysander, age 5, born May 1825]
  • 1 male 30-39 [1790-1800... James, about 34, born about 1796]
  • 1 female under 5 [born 1825-1830... daughter Fanny, about 4, born about 1826]
  • 1 female 5-9 [born 1820-1825... Unknown]
  • 1 female 20-29 [born 1800-1810... wife Abigail, about 25, born about 1805]

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

The Homer Spit

The town of Homer, Alaska lies on the shores of Kachemak Bay, a sheltered arm of lower Cook Inlet on the southeastern tip of the Kenai Peninsula, and is “famous” as being the halibut capital of the world. But we didn't come here to go fishing!

Sue, Fred and I are sharing a campsite on the Homer Spit, which extends 4.5 miles out into Kachemak Bay. When we arrived in early afternoon (August 12th) the campground was nearly empty. By evening it wasn't completely full but it was highly occupied. Huge RVs pulled in all around us!

As you can see, the skies are rather cloudy. It has been a wet summer here - if it rains in each of the next two days it will be a record for the Homer area – 28 days of rain! Of course, it wasn't a steady, consistent rain for all those days. We can only hope for a dry day on Saturday for our little excursion.

A few hundred feet away from the campground is the Seafarer's Memorial, of which this is a part. The inscription reads “This Bell Tolls for all the Souls Set Free Upon the Sea.”

The Harbor at Homer Spit. Even on a gloomy day, it is beautiful.

The tides of Kachemak Bay are the second largest in the world. The average vertical difference between high and low waters is 15 feet, with an extreme of 28 feet. During low tide the angle of the portion of the pier sloping down to the boats can be as much as 45 degrees! The piers and boats moored in the bay all rise and fall with the tides. A short but fascinating movie shown at the Alaska Islands & Ocean Visitor Center in Homer revealed the dramatic differences between high and low tide. It was amazing. These pictures of the marina area were taken when the tide was higher (though I don't know whether it was at high tide or not).



All kinds of rules and regulations must be strictly followed!

The little shop along the waterfront for the “Time Bandit” which is one of the boats (they hunt for Alaskan King Crab) that has become famous (or infamous, depending upon your point of view) locally due to the series “Deadliest Catch” on the Discovery Channel.

Friday, August 14, 2015

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

How dark does it get where you cycle at night? Some of us travel mostly on lit city streets, others in sparsely lit suburbs, and others still along pitch black country roads.

Last week I rode a good chunk of a 10 mile trip home in complete and utter pitch darkness. Even with my good LED headlight, I could only see a small part of the path ahead of me at a time, but eventually my eyes grew accustomed to the dark and I began to distinguish other clues. I went at a steady pace of about 12mph, which was sufficiently slow for me to recognise upcoming turns and obstacles on the road. A small fox trotted across my path once, crossing from one side of the meadows to another. I stopped and watched her wet fur glistening in my headlight beam, then continued on my way. At another point, a raccoon considered dashing to cross in front of me, but changed his mind and observed me from the side of the road as I cycled past him. I also encountered a few late-evening joggers and commuter cyclists, all of whom I was able to spot in advance at the speed I was going. Any faster though, and I don't think it would have been safe on that particular trail. Local cyclists are always ending up in hospitals from crashing into one of the gates and dividers that are placed there.



I know that randonneurs will go over 30mph on winding descents in the dark, but I am not there yet.Even as recently as last summer, I was terrified to cycle on winding unlit country roads in Maine and New Hampshire. But now I'd like to try it again.



I have LED headlights on most of my bicycles now, and the Co-Habitant has just updated his Pashley's stock lighting with the Supernova E3.The front and rear standlight features are on the dim side, but we think that is due to the bicycle's barely adequate 2.4W dynamo hub. When in motion, the lights are super-bright.



While good LED lighting is important, I think that cycling in the pitch dark also requires a certain degree of skill, as well as knowledge of your bicycle's handling and familiarity with local terrain. What's the darkest you're comfortable with when traveling by bicycle?

Thursday, August 13, 2015

A Series of Unfortunate Events

When we first began the RVing lifestyle, we listened to "A Series of Unfortunate Events" on audiobooks while we made the three hour drive from our house to where our RV was set up. The series is about a family of children that has one "unfortunate" thing after another happen to them. Lately, I am feeling like I could be a star in this quirky book series.



I normally get sick ranging from rarely to never. In the past few months, I've managed to have one weird thing after another happen. None of them that major except maybe having my gall bladder removed. Still, each one has been painful and frustrating. I twisted my ankle while in the OBX. I then had the gall bladder infection leading to surgery. We had an attack of the lovely little critters known as chiggers that was surprisingly uncomfortable. I have had allergy symptoms off and on that range from the mild ones to the my head feels like it is in a vice ones.



When we first arrived here I got pink eye in a more serious way than I ever have before. Last week I was stung by a yellow jacket and had a funky reaction to it. Yesterday I guess I decided to close the loop of unfortunate events by repeating the ankle twist. Again.



Now I am sporting this look:





The good news is that it is only a sprain and nothing is broken. The bad news is I can't walk on it so that means no holiday prep and no pickleball playing. Luckily I do not work until Friday, so I can rest in the meantime.



I've decided I've had enough of this series and would like to begin starring in a new series. I think something along the lines of Life is Good and my body is healthy and whole would be good. In the meantime Nathan is waiting on me hand and foot and is even doing the housework. I have had sweet friends here send me the kindest get well wishes. I am getting to do some digital scrapbooking which I always love. I think I'll focus on the gratitude I feel for those things instead of whining about the painful foot. It is Thanksgiving week after all!



Living the still fortunate life in Florida!

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Putting Your Foot Down

Enough people have asked me about this now that I thought it worth writing about: How do I put a toe down in traffic while remaining on the saddle, and also manage to get full leg extension on the downstroke? I will try to explain.



First off, let me clarify that I get "more or less" full leg extension, and obviously my leg would be even straighter if I had the saddle higher. So there is a bit of give and take to it. But the idea that your leg needs to be arrow-straight on the downstroke with the toe on the pedal and the heel raised, is not one that everyone subscribes to - especially not cyclists in cities where riding a bike for transportation is common. In Vienna, I would say that about half the cyclists I saw had their saddles adjusted so that they could touch the ground with a toe. Based on the pictures here, this seems to be the case in Copenhagen as well. When riding in cities with frequent intersections and stop signs, it can be tedious to get on and off the bike every 3 minutes. Being able to put a toe down makes things easier.



Another point, is that some bicycles' geometries work better for this than others: Typically, Dutch-style city bicycles have very relaxed seat tube angles, which increases the distance between the saddle and the pedals while keeping the saddle height constant. A lower bottom bracket helps as well, though not as much as a slack seat tube. You can watch this video of Dottie starting and stopping on her bike to get a better idea of how this works on a Dutch bike.



Finally, this may not be sufficiently noticeable in pictures, but I lean my bike to the side in order to reach the ground with a toe. I also keep my other foot on the pedal for balance. I cannot reach the ground with both toes, and I cannot even really reach with one toe unless I lean. This is something that becomes instinctive if you do it often enough. Alternatively, you could set the saddle lower. I've basically raised mine as far as I possibly can, while still managing to reach with one tip-toe while leaning.



Adjusting your saddle so that you can stop with a toe down is mainly about convenience. Some cyclists prefer this method, while others feel that not having their leg 100% straight on the downstroke robs them of power. How do you stop in traffic when cycling for transportation? And is it the method you've always used, or did you develop it after some trial and error?

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Saguaro in the Sonoran


A huge saguaro cactus in the Sonoran desert of Arizona.

Larger Continent, Longer Trips, Hotter Days, Grandiose Daydreams

Having just returned from abroad, many important matters were on the agenda. Naturally, one of them was a trip to Harris Cyclery. The shop is 9 miles from our place and the temperature was over 100F, but nothing could deter me from going on a ride after sitting still in a airplane for hours.

Good thing the Co-Habitant had those two bottles on his bike, because the heat and humidity were brutal. In Vienna I had gotten used to taking many short trips throughout the day and almost forgot that "commuting" and "errands" in Boston are a bit different. But I am clearly in better shape now than I was even a couple of months ago: The 18 mile round trip to Harris Cyclery used to feel like a "pilgrimage," but now it's just a casual trip.

As for the sun and heat, these are my solutions. Over the past year, I have been trying to switch to natural hygiene products: essential oils instead of perfume, herbal deodorant instead of aluminum-based antiperspirant, and mineral-based sunblock. It has not been easy. In Vienna I've finally found Eco Cosmetics SPF 30, which I love. Its only active ingredient is titanium (to which I am, thankfully, not sensitive) and the rest is herbal moisturisers. It works perfectly and is soothing on the skin. Finding a deodorant was even more challenging, but I've finally found the Queen Helene Tea Tree Oil Deodorant Stick. It works for me as well as the real stuff, and I like that it has a dry, matte texture, as I hate the feeling of sticky roll-ons. So there - if you are looking for natural ways to deal with sun and heat, these have worked for me. On the ride to Harris I neither got sunburnt nor had a "deodorant failure".

At the bike shop I picked up a couple of things I had been meaning to get, and also something unexpected: They had a stack of boxes with clipless shoes on clearance, and I bought these for $25.

They are SPD shoes that can be worn either with cleats attached on clipless pedals, or as regular shoes on platform pedals. I know, I know - I was just making fun of the Co-Habitant for getting clipless shoes and pedals. But I will explain that these aren't for any of my regular bikes; they are to practice for the velodrome (I plan to get a license when I return to Vienna in November). I brought a vintage frame back from Austria for fixed gear conversion, and I will need to put a foot retention system on it and finally force myself to learn. I did not plan to buy the shoes so soon, but here they were in just my size and at a great price - so now I have them.

Clipless shoe love? I don't know. The Co-Habitant was victorious as I made my purchase, suggesting which pedals I should get to go with the shoes (and me vehemently disagreeing). Later in the day, I wore the shoes (without cleats) on a 26 mile ride, just to see how they felt or regular pedals. Frankly, I am not in love with the super-stiff soles. I like moderately stiff soles, but these felt like overkill and detracted from comfort. Is this degree of stiffness an acquired taste that you get used to gradually? And I wonder whether the "ugly as sin but comfortable" Keen sandals everyone is getting have a similar feel to them?

In any case, I have my bike project plate so full at the moment, that it is comical. In the coming weeks, we will finally build up my Royal H mixte, make some much-anticipated updates to my Raleigh DL-1, and oh yes, create a fixed gear bicycle. Stay tuned, and try to stay sane in the heat!

Friday, August 7, 2015

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Gunks Routes: CCK Direct (5.9)



(Photo: A free soloist-- obviously not me!-- on the famous white billboard face of CCK in August .)



One year ago in mid-March I was more fit than I'd been in a long time. But I was still tentative on the rock as the year began. I remember stumbling my way up Te Dum (5.7) for my first climb of the season, with the rock and the gear both feeling mysterious to me after the long, snowy winter.



I hoped this year would be different. I'd grown so much as a climber over the course of . And this year we didn't really have much of a winter. There was no huge layoff between climbing days.



I was encouraged about my prospects when I got out to climb on February 1. On that day I felt fine, romping up several moderates on what might turn out to be my last day in the Gunks with Adrian. (In an act of unspeakable betrayal he moved back to Vancouver at the end of February.)



I didn't push any limits that day but the rock felt good, the gear familiar. Was it possible that maybe I could begin this season where I left off last year, and not regress several grades?



I got the chance to find out for sure on Saturday, March 17, when I went climbing in the Gunks with Dana Bartlett.



Dana and I had never met in person before, but we had corresponded by email. I was already familiar with him from his regular contributions to gunks.com and mountainproject.com. I knew him to be a strong climber of long experience. I hoped we'd have a good time together and that I might learn a thing or two.



I was feeling good on Saturday morning, having climbed a bit the day before. It had been a crummy day on Friday, starting with rain, then fog and wet rock, finally drying out and becoming nice in the late afternoon. I was out with my friend Franz, who has climbed inside for years but who has almost no outdoor experience. Because the weather was so poor we mostly toproped in the Uberfall, but despite the very limited nature of our climbing day I still took some confidence from the fact that I felt so natural on the routes we did. My footwork was solid; I was climbing well.



I decided I should just pick a landmark climb and go for it on Saturday with Dana. I quickly settled on CCK Direct, one of the ultraclassic three-star 5.9 climbs I never got around to in .



When I proposed it to Dana in the parking lot he was enthusiastic, saying that from what he knew about my recent climbing history, I'd be fine on it. This was just the kind of encouragement I needed! We gathered up our stuff and headed off down the carriage road.



We set up at the base of Erect Direction (pitch one is 5.8) and I led upward. I thought back to , when I'd had one of my best-ever days at the Gunks with Liz, onsighting both the regular non-direct CCK (5.7+) and Bonnie's Roof (5.9). I'd begun that day too with Erect Direction, figuring it was good to start with a 5.8-- an easier warm-up would inevitably still feel difficult and might only lead me to question myself. When Erect Direction went well that day in it had set the stage for further success and I hoped it would do the same for me again on Saturday.



I think of the first pitch of Erect Direction as a solid 5.8. It doesn't have any particularly hard moves on it but it is steep and continuous. It has many thoughtful sections and is quite pumpy for a good two-thirds of the way to the GT Ledge. It is to my mind a slightly easier version of the classic 5.8 testpiece Double Crack. It is a high quality pitch, a destination in its own right with good pro despite a few loose blocks.



It went down like butter on Saturday, making me even more primed for CCK Direct.





(Photo: The one and only Dana Bartlett, topping out on the 5.8 pitch one of Erect Direction.)



There was no need to consult the guidebook about CCK Direct. It seemed clear to me where to go. The opening overhang, which Dick rates as 5.8 PG/R, was my main concern. The last thing I wanted to do was to start the day by going splat on the GT Ledge. I'd followed Adrian up this part of the route in , however, and I thought the moves were pretty straightforward. (On that occasion Adrian had finished on the standard 5.7+ CCK, so I hadn't previewed any more of the Direct version.) The pro was a little bit down and to the left as you pulled the first roof, but it wasn't that bad, I thought.



Before setting off I asked Dana if he had any advice, and he said that I should save my blue # 3 Camalot for the end of the pitch, and that I'd be really happy to have it at the final crux overhang. This turned out to be very helpful information!



I was ready. I had the clever idea of leading up to the horizontal beneath the first overhang, placing a cam immediately to protect me while I leaned over, and then putting in another cam as far over to the right as I could reach. Then I back-cleaned the first cam and stepped down to move across to the actual moves.



This worked out well, but I probably should have put in two pieces when I leaned over instead of one. I later regretted having only a single piece between myself and the anchor when I did the first crux.



In any event I made it through the first overhang with no issues and breathed a sigh of relief.



I messed up heading into crux number two, the overhangs below the white billboard-like CCK face. I headed up a little too far to the left. I reached the bottom of the billboard, looked up and saw no holds, then looked to the right and saw all the chalk I'd neglected to follow. This caused me to panic for just a second.



I was getting pumped and there was no time to waste. I quickly downclimbed to my last cam, regrouped and headed back up the correct way. I'm sure this part of the pitch is really 5.7 or 5.8, but I made it harder for myself with my route-finding mistake. Luckily, once I pulled over the overhangs and found myself standing beneath the famous CCK crack, I could relax, clip a fixed tricam and shake it all out.



And then I had to shift gears from the jug-hauling overhangs to the exposed off-vertical thin climbing required by the CCK face. A few beautiful moves later, I was at the top of the crack, where one grunty pull got me above the billboard and below the huge roof at the top of the cliff.



The final challenge was still to come. To my surprise it turned out to be more mental than physical. It is so comfortable in that little alcove beneath the overhang, and the hold that takes you left to the exit notch is so small, you don't want to move! You can see a jug out further left and up, but it appears you have to step down and out left to get there. As you test the little hold over and over again, considering the move, it seems like you are taking a leap into the abyss. The footholds disappear. The exposure is insane.



I must have tested the hold a dozen times. I considered any alternative I could think of. There is chalk on some tiny horizontal cracks above, but I couldn't use them. Eventually I had to take the leap, step down and over, and trust I'd find whatever I needed when I got out there.



I needn't have been so worried. The pro was good. Once I finally made the step, I had the jug in a second. One more move up and I could slam in my blue Camalot. (Thank you Dana!) And then the biggest move of the pitch took me over the final overhanging block to the top.



What a way to start the season! I think CCK Direct may be the best pitch I have ever climbed. The good stuff just keeps coming and coming. After the steepness of two overhangs you have to deal with a totally new challenge, the thin sequence to get established in the perfect crack up that blank CCK face. The moves and the position are sublime. But it isn't over! The final crux notch puts the cherry on the cake.



Last fall I would have viewed this pitch as a fitting capper for the whole year. I'm so psyched to begin the season with such a great milestone.

Monday, August 3, 2015

About a Year

Looking through the pictures I took of a recent ride along the cherry-blossoming Charles River, I realised that it has been just about a year since I began Lovely Bicycle. I say "about a year", because I am not entirely sure when exactly I started writing vs. publishing the entries. But apparently it was right around this time, as in my first documented bike-ride the blossoms were in bloom as well.



It is customary to conduct some sort of self-assessment when a project like this reaches its 1-year anniversary. But when I think about why I started this website, I feel suddenly inarticulate and a little confused - because honestly I do not have a good reason. I am not an activist and do not seek to promote "a cycling lifestyle". Life has worked out for me in such a way, that personally I have not driven a car since 2007, and I love to ride my bicycle(s) for both transportation and recreation. However, if you happen to own a dozen SUVs and enjoy driving them, that is fine with me. If you collect bicycles solely for the purpose of photographing them in your garden and never actually ride them, that is fine as well. And if you are a die-hard Foresterite vehicular cyclist who hates bike infrastructure and loves 6-lane roads with 40mph+ speed limits, that's wonderful too. You are all welcome, if you feel that you can relate to some aspect of this website.



Neither is the motive of this weblog a diary-style documentation of my life. Those who know me in person are aware that my posts here create an amusingly incomplete and warped presentation of my actual life and personality. And finally, neither was it ever my intent (not that I am in any danger of this) to gain commercial success or recognition for this website.



When I first started Lovely Bicycle, the intent was to review the options that were out there for bicycles that were both practical and aesthetically pleasing for people with lifestyles and tastes similar to mine. This was driven by my own frantic search for a "lovely bicycle" in Spring of . However, the weblog developed far beyond this premise and I am still no closer to explaining what motivates me to continue it - when frankly my life is quite hectic as it is and does not need extra projects.



I will be honest: This discrepancy of the blog getting larger and more time consuming (I now get over a dozen emails per week and it is becoming impossible to answer most of them) with my not having a good explanation for why I am doing this, has caused me some concern and I have considered discontinuing Lovely Bicycle on several occasions. An alternative option could be to start accepting selected sponsorships, and using any earnings from these to at least cut down on some of the consulting projects I do in order to stay financially afloat - thereby freeing up time to continue working on the blog. But I do not have a clear idea of how this could be done while still maintaining the home-made feel of this wesite.



In short, it remains to be determined in what direction Lovely Bicycle will meander next, if at all. But in the meantime, I can't seem to help continuing to take pictures of beautiful bicycles and writing all of this nonsense about them!



While taking the pictures shown in this post, I was approached by a couple who asked me whether their daughter could pose next to my bicycle for their home-made video of the girl reciting "Make Way for Ducklings" by Robert McCloskey. We moved the bicycle closer to the river, and the mother directed the daughter while the father videotaped. They did several takes of the recital and the child was adorable.



Of course I didn't have the heart to tell them that the "ducklings" in the river were in fact geese. Where better for me to share a story of such an encounter, than on Lovely Bicycle?...

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Yellow Lillies

Some photos of the yellow lillies that I grew on my sunroom this spring. These have grown from their bulbs, and bloomed and gone, but the orange ones have barely started to grow. Wonder what the difference was since I bought at the same store, same brand and planted at the same time? Well at least these were pretty.