Sunday, November 25, 2007

My poor husband

Some of you may remember that Rick had his bike stolen from a locked roof rack when we were in Berkeley this past summer (he doesn't have the best luck with bikes, as you will soon see). He spent months researching what bike he wanted next, waiting for the insurance money to come in, and trying to decide whether to go with the bigger wheels (a mountain biker thing). About a month ago, he made the decision and ordered a new bike. He loved that bike (notice the past tense) like a child. Rode at every opportunity, was so happy with the bigger wheels.

He went riding today, while I finished the edging on Simurgh. We were having friends over to dinner, so he called on the way home to see what I needed from the store. I got a call five minutes later and thought he'd forgotten the list. But what I heard on the phone, in a dull voice, was, "The bike came off the bike rack. On the freeway." He sounded ready to cry. Long story short, the bike flew off the rack, dented the hood of the car behind him, and got completely smashed by everyone behind that guy. Thank god, no-one was hurt, no-one crashed. But the bike is destroyed. (Dinner got cancelled; thank goodness it was my dear friend who was totally understanding and supportive.)

I was planning to wait until tomorrow to write a nice, long post about our weekend and about the lovely Simurgh (which is now at the halfway point), but I had to tell someone. Thanks for listening.

7 comments:

Anne said...

Oh dear, oh dear! What an awful & scary way for the bike to go. You know my transportation woes of late; I feel uniquely qualified to sympathize. But truly, at least he wasn't ON it.

WandaJ said...

Oh no! Poor guy. (more ways than one)

We sympathize: Ed's faithful road bike with many many miles was in the backyard shed, along with all our camping gear and horse gear, that was blown up when the end of the year garden fire our son was "tending" made a beeline to the shed, ignited the small propane tank inside and blew everything to smitherines. Fortunately no one got hurt. The explosion was heard over a mile away.

Anonymous said...

Wow, the bike crash must have been traumatic--so glad no one was hurt (physically, that is). My main reason for posting, though, is to respond to your T-day essay--I feel so much the same way about connecting to other people through cooking (and gathering--I'm always after wild blackberries, etc.), and the needlecrafts I do.

Right before Thanksgiving my grown-up daughter and her best friend since 5th grade (so lucky, aren't they?)and I were talking about cooking and I dragged out a community cookbook from a little Kansas town in the 50's that I bought at a yard sale long ago. Almost every recipe has a tiny black and white picture of the woman who submitted it--from grey-haired farm wives in their 60's, named Minnie or Ida, to snappy young wives with costume jewelry pinned to their sweaters. We laughed so much reading the recipes to each other--almost all salads contain either gelatin or something canned, lots of bacon grease re-used, and our favorite, a recipe for chile that called for suet browned in lard. However, the "Mrs. Sam Boman" who contributed it looked like she'd fed a lot of threshing crews in her day and would feed a lot more.

There's a cookbook I want to recommend to you, though--The Vegetarian Hearth, by Darra Goldstein (Harper Collins, 1996). I'm not a vegetarian, either, although some of my favorite recipes are for people of that persuasion. Anyway, Ms. Goldstein teaches Russian at a small college, writes beautifully about amusing odd things like Tolstoy's wife (a famous vegetarian, apparently), and has an infectious enthusiasm for cold-weather food. I'm sure you'd love her voice and her point of view.

I seem to be writing an essay, too, but I've had a million-day cold that I'm getting very tired of, and it's just nice to think of warm things like cooking and talking. I really enjoy your glog, no, blog, but glog sounds good about now. Cheers,
Kate

Bea said...

Oh how awful!

Norma said...

Oh, how AWFUL. Thank goodness no one was hurt, but it is so sad for you husband, and so scary for the cars behind! I'm always petrified of stuff flying at me on the highway like that. Poor bike, RIP. Poor husband, find another good bike.

Marianne said...

oh nooooooooooo! I am sooo very sorry to hear this... ack. I'm also just so glad no one was hurt physically, damn.
Here's to Rick finding another good bike!... he will be getting back in that 'saddle', right?


What lovely commentors, waving big hello to Wanda, so good to see her out and about, eh? and the comment from Kate! how wonderful is that?!? and of course, Norma... and Anne and Bea...

Rabbitch said...

Oh, I'm so sorry!