Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me.
I admit it. I’ve been bitten by the the long-distance bike ride bug, and I can’t stop going on long rides! Because I raised so much money for the Cape Cod Getaway, the MS Society let me register for free for another of their rides, the Manchester Bike Ride. It’s on August 9 (yes, indeed, that is our 5th anniversary. Ian is fine with it. Thank goodness I have a patient and understanding husband!) Now I just have to remember how it feels to ride 62 miles…
I saw a red squirrel today. It looked like a cross between a chipmunk and a gray squirrel. I nearly fell off my bike in surprise (after recovering from nearly swooning at its cuteness) when I saw it: I thought they had gone extinct around here, thanks to the bullying of their bigger gray cousins.
Ian and I just finished reading what I have to dub The Worst Romance Novel Ever. As connoisseurs of bad writing, particularly bad romance novels, we have experienced more than our fair share of horrendous romance novels. Often the badness becomes humorous, in the misuse of words or ambiguity of phrasing that lets a person construe the statement various ways. This one, though, was so bad that we never laughed at it. Instead, we agreed that we would burn it page by page, so nobody else would ever have to suffer from its bad writing ever again.