The exercise bicycle

Simon the cat has claimed the exercise bicycle. He sits on the big wide seat (chosen to fit MY big wide seat) and watches the backyard. When we want to use the bike, we have to shoo him off, and so he sits and waits for us to finish. Then he reclaims his perch.

I'm actually enjoying using the bike. I can't do much before my legs turn to jello, but I'm hoping that I can work up to several miles, rather than fractions of a mile. My spouse is doing better than I am, but then, he is and has always been a more active person than I am. I've noticed that his tiny little pot belly has disappeared, but in the summer, when he's playing golf and doing yard work, that usually happens anyway. The key will be whether he continues the biking in the winter, which in Michigan is a time of great lethargy for all us older folk. I don't think I will ever learn to like winter up here. Snow and ice are not "bracing" to me--they are paralyzing.

On my usual abrupt change of topic, there is one good thing about winter: I don't have to worry about watching the neighborhood children. Yesterday, I saw a little boy and girl (6-10 years old?) playing behind the neighbor's house. (These aren't the neighbor's children.) They were taking rocks from a garden area beside the neighbor's back door and then throwing the rocks into the pond. My husband refused to say anything to them, but I'm sure the neighbors would not have been pleased that these children were turning their landscape rocks into pond filler. These kids seemed to be too young to wander without supervision, but then, I don't know whether they live in the neighborhood or not. We've had a lot of moving in and out this year.

For me to use the word "neighborhood" is kind of oxymoronic since I have not felt as if I were part of the neighborhood. We're friendly with several people just to speak to, but we aren't friends with anyone. The other day as my husband and I were entering the drugstore, a woman coming out said, "Hello, neighbor!" After she'd passed, my husband asked, "Who is she?" I had no idea. We assume it was the woman who lives across the street ("One-Way" is the nickname we've given the husband for his odd mowing patterns), but she's never really been friendly and usually rushes away if we even speak to her. It's kind of hard to develop a sense of neighborliness with people when they do that.

Maybe if I were riding a real bicycle instead of one plunked down in front of the tv, I'd get to know the neighbors better. I'd need to know them so I could count on them to call 9-1-1 after I had a stroke and fell off the bike in their front yard! It's going to take a while before I can ride a bike outdoors in front of people. It's going to take awhile before I can ride the exercise bike for longer than five minutes at a time! S.