Zip and the Art of the Bicycle Seat

Zipline fun

I cannot begin to stress the importance of a well-fitted bicycle seat. After my first long ride yesterday, I have been left sore and bruised in perhaps the most inconvenient place. Luckily I have a well-padded desk chair. Speaking of sore, this weekend wife and I worked in the yard all afternoon removing shrubs, laying sod, and otherwise grappling with 40Ib bags of dirt and rocks carried back and forth from the driveway to the back of the yard, back and forth, back and forth… This came after a five mile run wife and I did while pushing son in what must be the heaviest jogging stroller in the world. It only cost $25 from a yard sale; you get what you pay for. I often wonder why no one is overweight in the future as presented by science fiction movies. It seems I have to work extra hard and I never see anyone working out on Battlestar Galactica.

Normally, Mondays are an awful day to come into work. Well, I guess that’s not true. No day is good for coming into work. I am still working on my five year plan of becoming a jet-setting, international playboy billionaire like Tony Stark. He had a wicked house in Iron Man, and cars, and women…er, sorry wife.  Like Tony, I am an only child and I am sure my parents often thought of the consequences of leaving me alone. Alas, they are NOT billionaires either. I know this sounds crazy, but I think I wanted son because I didn’t want daughter to be alone. There’s nothing wrong with only child syndrome; I got the best cuts of meat and never competed for bathroom time.

Yesterday, father-in-law came over and I helped him install a zip line for daughter. I wanted it to be 30 feet in the air and 50 feet long, but we really don’t have a rain forest-style canopy in the ’05. So, we decided to string it between two white oaks on the side of the yard. Currently, there is a decapitating-if-not-careful steel wire about six feet above the ground. Let’s just hope the lawn patrol sees the blaze-orange hooks hanging from the wire and don’t cause my homeowner’s insurance to skyrocket.

The best part of the weekend didn’t even involve me. Wife took son and daughter to pick strawberries. They brought back four gallons of mouth-watering berries that soon became 18 jars of strawberry preserves that out-taste anything I could find at the store. There is a crispness to the jelly and I was disappointed I couldn’t eat it right away. After all, we have one jar of last year’s jelly still open and goodness me! I don’t want to waste food.

Yet again, bedtime was chaos with son; this effort was centered around the shape of the band-aid son wanted to put over the tiny scab that he described as a gaping wound. We only had square band-aids and he wanted a circle. I tried to cut the edges off but he was too wiley to be fooled. He finally picked a long band-aid but I put it across his leg, and he wanted it vertically aligned. I ripped off the bandage which caused a whole new set of wailing and then HE placed it on his leg. I guess I’ll have to remember to ask first, like, “Do you want this sandwich cut into squares or triangles?” Don’t EVER get that wrong.

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  1. #1 by Wife on April 16, 2012 - 12:55 pm

    All those women wanted Tony Stark for his money. No one wants to get it on with a guy who has a giant metal thingie in his chest. All the ladies want you for your looks. If this billionaire thing works out, well…I guess I’ll have to take up MMA to fight off the competition.

    • #2 by skischulze on April 16, 2012 - 12:57 pm

      I got my lotto ticket; hit the gym, kick-boxer.

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