Not So Crazy Today

Salut!

That is the French word for an informal hello OR goodbye. Gotta love efficiency in language. Although French is not a language known for efficiency. In fact France in general is probably the world's epicenter of form over function. God bless them for it. I was, for a long time, disgusted with the culture.
Actually that is not true at all. I was disgusted with the many, many girls I knew in high school who took French as their foreign language requirement and never seemed to shut up about "French this" and "France that". They thought it made them seem super cool, fancy, trendy, citizens of the "beau monde". What disgusted me? They were right.
I took Latin. Which I still think is more awesome. So there.
Anyway I am over my invidious disdain for French/France. Don't get me wrong; I won't be "oh hoh hoh hoh!"-ing or sporting a beret anytime soon. Or ever. But picking up a few words here there might be fun.
Spent some time fixing Eric's/my bike today. It is a cruiser. Was a little worried about getting on a bike for the first time in years. I just kept thinking of how horrible it would be to be the first person EVER to disprove the old saying that "you never forget".
I had not forgotten. Praise the Lord! It was a nice ride around the block until a bubble of air formed from a hole in the inner tube of the front tire. Then it was wobbly. So more work must be done to the poor, rusty thing. I shall name it Dabra. As in the second part of Abrakadabra.
Because it must be magical if it can get me to exercise.
I did clean the apartment yesterday. It looks great. Self B has just reminded me that I need to do it again today. That is what sucks about cleaning: You must do it EVERY day.
I want to leave you with my favorite line so far from the book Isaac's Storm by Erik Larson about the Hurricane that hit Galveston in 1900. It is a mind blowing (no pun intended) story. Check it out if you need something quick to read.
For some reason this just really tickled my fancy:
"It moved through the city like a mailman delivering dynamite."
Reminds me of this Magritte painting I saw at the Menil Collection here in Houston once. A bloody rifle propped against the finely papered wall of an obviously fancy sitting room. Half and Half. Every day and the end of days.