new growth

Posted March 9th, 2008 by Michelle

Try to not be jealous. It’ll be hard, but try.

I just spent a few lovely days with much of my family down in Venice, CA. The Lucy and Barnaby show was extraordinary, as was just simple time spent with so many brothers and sisters-in-law. One of the highlights of the trip was going for a bike ride with Steve, Ian, and the two little ones in a “chariot” behind Ian’s bike. Lucy and Barno spent the entire time either singing, or staring raptly out the chariot windows at the sunset and the Ferris wheel down the beach.

Not only did I get the pleasure of everyone’s company on that ride, but it was also the inaugural ride of my new pink cruiser. It’s common knowledge that for every last little thing on earth, there is a dork somewhere who obsesses about that thing. For me, it’s bikes. And I think I differ from most bike geeks because I don’t just collect fancy handmade Italian racing bikes. I mean, I have a fancy handmade Italian racing bike which is about the sexiest thing since, well, my new KitchenAid mixer, but I also have an awesome Trek hybrid. And, now, a pink cruiser. I don’t want many of the same bike, I want every kind of bike there is. And now, I feel sated.

I’ve also heard that “things” don’t equal happiness, but… but the joy I feel on the back of a bike- any bike- is unlike anything else in my life. Every time I put my feet down to climb off a bike after a long ride, I remember that I feel a little awkward when I’m on land. Or rather, that I feel like, with two wheels, I can fly.

Ian took me to the bike shop. I rode on the back of his bike, hands clenched on the back of his belt, feet flying free down the Venice boardwalk. Maybe that’s what it was like for Lucy and Barnaby on their ride.

It was tough to come home after such a short trip, but I came home to happy news. The tree in my front yard, and all of my wee seedlings, sprouted in the 70-plus degree weather.

These little guys are about eight different types of heirloom tomatoes, as well as what is eventually going to be buckets of basil. I haven’t grown tomatoes from seed since I was in the sixth grade (and then it was a science experiment). It could be said that I have plenty of hobbies (baking, cooking, cycling, puzzles, games, travel, cycling, hiking, yoga, gardening, etc.- ye gods, what a zork I am) but I couldn’t resist just one more this spring. Rather than going to a nursery and buying whatever heirlooms look best, I wanted to be there for the very beginning of the process. What’s incredible is not just these little green guys stretching toward the sky, but also the tiny little still-bent seedlings, doubled over in the earth, who just aren’t ready quite yet to make their first extension toward the sun.

Ahh, bliss. I really don’t want this weekend to end.