Shifted Priorities

Tags

bicycling, fatherhood, lawn

There is not much that will keep me from riding my bicycle on the weekend.  Usually it has to either be severe weather or a family commitment.

Or yard work.

We all should be familiar with my obsession over lawn lines after my recent blog regarding that subject.  That obsession extends into the length of grass and not letting it grow beyond three days during the growing season.  This time of year is when it rains almost every day in Chicagoland.  The temperatures are consistently into the 80 and 90 degree range.  Everything grows to jungle proportions.  If I don’t mow my lawn every three days, I hear monkeys screeching in my yard.  I swear, it’s true.

The bushes in front of my house had grown so much that I practically had to climb on the roof of my two story house to trim them.  Grass had grown over the sidewalk, rendering the power edger almost useless, making a shovel the preferred method of taming the overgrowth.  A decorative vine next to the garage had ventured inside and was threatening to strangle me in my sleep.

Only it’s evil chuckle as it hovered over my sleeping form saved me, my trusty shears stored in my bed stand at the ready.  Today I am still bewildered as to how that nefarious vine slipped past the watchful eye of my faithful Sheltie.  Biscuit crumbs next to the door give me a good idea of how that happened.  Bribes work especially on Nick the Sheltie.

Five hours of intense yard labor, a necessary safety precaution, is what kept me from my bicycle on Saturday.  Soaked with sweat when finished, I retreated safely to the shower and then to the calm of a baseball game as I napped on the couch, an eye open in case the vine reanimated.

Sunday my son turned 16.  Escaping forever on my bicycle was the temptation when I awoke yesterday morning.  Instead, I reserved my energy for the day ahead.   Church.  Lunch with the boy and his mother.  An adventure in the passenger seat of his mother’s car as the new driver negotiated the busy streets of west Chicagoland (not as bad as it sounds.. but we left his mother to shop while we motored).  Fun shopping for baseball jerseys at a new fan apparel store.  Nine holes of twilight golf, a fantastic time with a boy who suddenly figured out it’s more fun to golf when relaxed.

No bike.  And it’s freaking pouring rain today.

The vine just texted me.  Uh oh.  Time to buy some Round Up and a squirt gun…..

Bronze League

The city I live in is official.

We’re bicycle friendly.

So cool.

Ever since the BPAC (Bicycle and Pedestrian Advisory Commission) was established ten years ago, when our mayor took office, one of the goals of our commission was to achieve the Bicycle Friendly designation.  Twice our city has received honorable mention.  Being designated adds value to our community, brings attention to the efforts we truly have made to make our city a place that encourages bicycling.

Getting to this point meant developing a three phase plan that improved existing bike paths, added a network of paths and bike lanes, increased signage.  Our community has implemented to the third phase the plan that our committee developed.  Events and educational programs at our elementary schools have been established.  An annual bike safety fair was started several years ago, originally fully planned and staffed by our committee and now is run by our city park district, had over 250 participants a few weeks ago.  At that fair, 30 new bicycles were given to children and we inspected/repaired over 100 bicycles at no charge.  The application for bicycle friendly designation is a very involved 30 page document.

Our mayor came to our commission meeting tonight, a proud smile on his face as he presented the first of the signs announcing our designation to be posted along the paths and bicycle lanes in our city.

I was one of three commissioners chosen to complete this year’s application.  Dang.  Makes me feel very good.  We met twice a month for six months as we gathered the data for the application, decided who would complete the sections of the application.

If you ever make it to Warrenville, Illinois look for the signs.  You know someone who made them possible!

Lawn Stripes

I just finished mowing the lawn.  I love the satisfaction I feel right after I shut the mower’s engine down, push it into the shed, pull my boots off and place them on the shelf in the shed, then savor the feel of the soft even carpet of damp grass under my bare feet as I walk around the yard.  There is a distinct pleasure, close to erotic, as the fresh scent fills my lungs while my eyes take in the lines left across the lawn — straight patterns that criss cross each other, a result of my diligence to never mow the same direction twice in a row.  Learned as a boy when I mowed lawns for spending money, I discovered that mowing in the same direction every time makes the grass lay down instead of standing up.  The lawns I mowed always looked good from the street, earning me more business as the carefully manicured lawns provided the advertisement I needed.

First cut of the season is always horizontal, side to side and parallel to the house.  Second cut is always vertical, then corner to corner, then corner to corner in the opposite direction.  I may not do anything else to perfection in my yard, but the lawn is as close to perfection as I am going to get.

The walks and driveway are swept, then I take it all in again as I drink a cold bottle of water on the front porch.  After my shower, I sneak another peak out the back window, enjoying the crisp lines of the cut again.  I know by the next morning, especially during the cool, wet suburban Chicagoland Spring weather, the grass will have already grown enough to mask the perfection of the new cut.  Two days later I will be thinking of getting the mower out again.

Geez… I must be getting old….