Folded, spindled, and semi-mutilated

So, since my last post I finished quilting a couch throw for friends Lyra and Ryan’s wedding. I was pleased with how it turned out.

The wedding was wonderful. The bride was beautiful (naturally), the groom handsome and both so outrageously happy it should have been illegal. It was all so right. Most everyone danced like crazy people (in some cases, rather inebriated crazy people) and had the most enjoyable time. I was  delighted to have been able to share  in this wonderful day. Blessings upon them both.

So, now for the blog title reference. Sunday Ed and I were out for a long bike ride in preparation for RAGBRAI (a week long bike ride across the state of Iowa — my second, Ed’s third).

After about 18 miles, I saw some friends on the other side of the trail. Foolish me, I just slowed way down and started to pull to the side. But Ed glanced back, not seeing what I had done, and we collided and both flipped off our bikes, fortunately into the grass. However fortunate the grass was, at 10-12 miles an hour, that’s a still a pretty hard fall.

Well, as there was a big family bike ride event occurring (Ride the River for Father’s Day), there were some bike police riding by. They called a fire truck (No, Bill, neither of us caught fire) and our friends (who told us we looked like we must have practiced falling it looked so good) and another biking couple stopped to assist.

Ed had a pretty good goose egg on his shin that was down by the time we got home due to the ice pack from the firemen. But his wrist was pretty banged up.

Me? I landed pretty hard on my back (be aware that under nice, soft grass is hard dirt) and was afraid I might have broken my shoulder (at least I didn’t break my collarbone – a rather common bike event, or so I’m told).

We refused a ride in an ambulance in favor of a ride home for us and the bikes via Super Brent, our hero of the day. Thanks more than a million, dear friend!

So, after a trip to Convenient Care and several x-rays, nothing broken. Just two sheepish and very sore bicyclists.

NOTE: here is where I’d insert a picture of a sheep on a bicycle, if I knew how to do it without breaking copyright laws that is. Stay tuned.

Anyway, so now it’s a rainy Wednesday morning and I’ll spend a little quality time on the front porch with the cats and my coffee.

Cheers, all.


A little tricky to see, but that black spot is our Herriott cat who was contemplating a dash into the raindrops. Her brother, Oscar, was a little smarter and helped me read the paper on the drier part of the porch.