A Long Strange Trip...a gift indeed

Three years ago today, I began feeling the effects of my first chemo "therapy." It takes very little for me to summon the corporeal memory...I recall that strange, thick fog and heat. Tonight, I ran with Trip for quite a distance (for us.) I was exquisitely aware of the beauty in our abilities and movement. Completely present in our moment--and grateful. A strange gift indeed...

Fight Breast Cancer with G-BOMBS

Fight Breast Cancer with G-BOMBS

Great Article on foods that ramp up the immune system. Greens; Beans; Onions; Mushrooms; Berries and Seeds!

homeless visitors...

Such a good, funny, recycled (not homeless) life... When I go to the dog park, or even take the boys for walks, I don't feel the need to get dressed up. In fact, my friend Sandi's husband says I look a bit like a homeless person when I am out with my dogs. This point I cannot argue, but I have to say I would look like a well-fed homeless person... A little over a month ago, I decided to get an adult tricycle. Why? I exercise nightly, and the boys each get a decent 2-3 mile walk just about every night. For some variety, I felt the bike would be a good thing for the boys and me. Hell, the walking is tearing up my knees...and if I was feeling lazy, they could just pull me, right? Oh, and why a TRIKE as opposed to a BIKE? Well, my balance is fine, but add in anxious Mr. Sarge, and I could just see myself splayed out in the road, half-dead, from some accident caused by a bunny rabbit. This clearly would be a better way to die than some deaths; however, I am not quite ready. Another thing you should know about adult tricycles. These are not the huge-front-wheeled contraptions from the early 1900s you may be picturing. There is quite a market for these things in Florida. Yes, they are often used by older folks. The seats are called saddles...they are oversized and quite comfy. My saddle holds my entire ass, and this is no easy feat (ask my pants.) Also, homeless Florida folks seem to like trikes, as they have nifty baskets on the back. Apparently, the large baskets are perfect for collecting cans to haul to the recyclers. Indeed, it is not unusual to see well-worn humans riding well-ridden tricycles up and down residential streets on recycleable-collection days. I found my tricycle on Craigslist. It was $80, was owned by a very small old Cuban man, and it needed tires, tubes, brakes, etc. Of COURSE I bought it! After trying my mad (and non-existent) bicycle repair/maintenance skills, I took it to a real and locally-owned bike shop (ABC Bicycles in St. Pete). They took my poor, sad looking trike and dressed her up with new tires, tubes, handlebar grips, brake lines...fixed the brakes...Mind you, she still is a wee bit sad looking--even with the awesome LED lights I got for her (required by law, thank you.) Her former owner added an oversized metal basket to the back...it sticks out too far in the back, as it was clearly not originally intended to be a trike basket. It fits and it works though...I figured if I wore out the dogs, I could easily have one of them ride in the back in the basket. This basket has been spray-painted white; however, this was done many moons ago. The rust has about 30% coverage. Additionally, someone spray painted the handlebar assembly a solid, flat black. This does not match the rest of the bike. The rest of the bike is blue and silver steel. Oh! And there are 3 different wheels...and since it would have taken a two-week wait to get all matching tires, she has meaty, off-road tires on the back and a smoother "road" tire on the front. My trike has ghetto character. After the time and money I have spent on this thing...yes, I could have had a brand new, shiny trike...and most people who know me well will tell you I prefer character over common (or even downright "new.") Tonight, Trip and I ventured out for our evening trike ride and run. I donned my faded tie-dye t-shirt, cut off grey sweatpant shorts and brown tennis shoes. My friend Michelle is working weekend nights at Busch Gardens, so we've been visiting her dog Luna--who may be feeling somewhat lonely while her hu-mom is working. I parked the trike out in front of Michelle's garage door and decided to take Luna for a walk with Trip. So, we walked around for a while...until both of the dogs started sniffing more than walking. On our way back to the house, I noticed a large truck parked in the street, just blocking Michelle's driveway. I thought, hmmmm...what a jerk for parking there. Then I realized there was someone in that thar pickup. He was holding up his phone until he noticed me walking up toward the driveway with the dogs. I smiled when I noticed a human in the large truck, and said, "Hello there!" He responded, "That's my sister's dog," as if not quite sure how to deciper his current situation. I realized this was Michelle's brother (whose name I always forget), so I identified myself as Tory and told him I was visiting Luna since Michelle was at Busch. He said he had just gotten off work and was checking on his sister's place...he then asked if that was my bike in the driveway. I claimed it. He then cautiously told me he thought it might belong to a homeless person, and that he was wondering why there was a homeless person at his sister's house. I just laughed...and looked down at myself and laughed some more.