black chevrolet

It's Friday afternoon, a cold crisp day. I don't feel like blogging, but I'm tying myself to my desk for a few hours. I'm also trying to psyche myself for more fun this weekend; I'm riding motorcycle up Highway 1 to San Francisco, tonight and tomorrow morning. This has been a dream of mine for some time; and the circumstances could hardly be better. I have companionship of Toque-and-honey, a three-day weekend before me, and the prospect of glorious cold weather. A time and a place to leave cares behind, because like my evil angel they can't quite go 55 mph. (Or can they? Can they, now? I try not to think about that, but somehow I am thinking about it.)

And in four hours and fifty-one minutes, I can leave it all behind simmering in the Heritage Valley and let new worlds and new valleys wash over me and clean it all off...except it won't. "come to me ye who are burdened and rest, for my yoke is sweet and my burden light" the day may come when I begin to understand those words but that day is very far off....