sometimes you have to stop and smell the chamois butter

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

whistle pig day

Yes, I borrowed this image from the internet.  But it just spoke to me.  Today being Groundhog day and all.  I can see old Puxatawny Phil forgetting about his big day and boozin' a little too heavily with his mates.  Waking up to a boatload of commotion outside of his crib, he peers at his watch and mutters to himself, "son-of-a-biscuit-eater."   Then he rolls out of bed and hobbles toward the opening of his mound.  Arising from the dirt like a dusty phoenix, he throws down an elbow and tries to focus one hairy eyeball on the Gov'ner.  "Yessir,  looks like spring is on the way, now beat it you bunch of soft crybabies."
I felt like one of those soft crybabies today.  It was downright bitter out.  I went outside a bunch, only to bring in more wood to burn.  My only ride of the day, I forced myself to spin to the store for some beverages.  As I was bundling up to go out, my lady looked at me with genuine concern on her face and says, "You're not really going to ride are you."   I think it was more out of guilt (the beer was for her).  It was indeed the bitter cold I expected it to be, but because I was pedaling it didn't seem quite so horrible.  At least not for the 12 blocks I had to ride.  I love small town Moab!
ps- whistle pig is West Virginian for groundhog

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