Syringes and SPD's

PART 1
Do you ever find yourself suddenly seeing yourself in your current situation from an outsider's perspective? Or as if you have stepped back a few steps and are viewing events from a perspective similar to that of memory?

A moment of clarity. Perhaps nothing more than an altered vision of reality. Either way, slightly disconcerting.

Sweet Home Alabama on the radio, a syringe of antibiotics in one hand and the other gripping the collar of Bob the goat, I'm willing him to back up just a bit more so he will have effectively wedged his hind-quarters into the corner of his stall, thereby rendering himself immobile because I've already got his front shoulders trapped between my knees. Shishka (goat #2 in the same stall) is snacking on my hair and I'm mentally cursing myself for not tying it back and for forgetting to give Bob his antibiotics while there was still someone else at work to help me.

Suddenly I wonder why. I'm not a vet. I don't intend to be one. I don't raise goats. Why on earth am I currently locked in a goat pen attempting to give a goat a needle?

A funny picture I am too; baby blue baby-T "STAFF" shirt, hibiscus-flowered blue boardshorts, a goat chewing on my hair, another between my knees, and third looking on.

And I'd be laughing at me from this perspective if I wasn't at the moment very involved in the proceedings. Did I mention the questionable smell emanating from something relatively close by? Goats have this unfortunate habit of relieving themselves at the most inopportune moments. Very sternly I had to inform Shishka, Bob, and their stall-mate Gonzo that none of them had better have had anything to do with this most unfortunate olfactory disturbance-not until I've removed myself from their quarters. As if they are listening. Note to Bob: that isn't going to happen until the aforementioned antibiotics are safely under his skin.


PART 2
I went for a ride after work. I can't remember the last time I went for a ride. I think it was on the trails behind the high school at some point after Christmas. For no reason today I decided that Bike was far too neglected and that I should change that. It possibly had something to do with the doughnuts Miss Synchro brought to work today. 4 people do not need to have 12 doughnuts in the office. It's just too tempting. I do believe I managed to limit myself to one and a half. However, there was chocolate in my coffee this morning and a granola bar in my lunch, so... far too much sugar consumed nonetheless.

I had forgotten how peaceful it is to ride out cape Lazo way. I had forgotten how friendly people on bikes are. They always nod and smile. At least they do here. And how good it feels to focus on making your legs and pedals work as one; the act of envisioning your feet moving in perfect circles...driving the pedals around over and over and over again...and then turning the vision into reality. Aiming for perfect rhythm regardless of less than perfect terrain. I don't really need them maybe, but I love my clipless pedals. I've never understood why more people don't attach themselves to their pedals. SPDs make sense. It's more efficient. Isn't it? I think it is.

(Jsut don't' try to hop around in circles on your bike on the road the first day you have new clipless pedals. Learn to release them consistently first. Preferably on grass.)