We have enjoyed three deliciously sunny days, and I can now see how my creativity has been frozen, along with the rest of Cincinnati's soil. I've missed numerous opportunities to post & have already forgotten the small smiles & looks. I'll have to suffice with remembering the major events & look forward to recording future anecdotes.
As a short list, since the beginning of the year, we've done the following:
- Christmas/G & G Hatch missionary farewell/Nielson family reunion in California
- Scot's 12th birthday/watched him ordained as a deacon & pass the Sacrament
- Tons of Merit Badge pre-work
- Quick weekend trip to VA for baby Benjamin's blessing
- Lots of Risk & Clue games, plus Wii Sports Resort & Wii Fit Plus
- Succumbed to several bugs, including one which hunted each of us down like the Invisible Man
OK--enough of the past couple months. On we go, with a trickling renewal that hopefully will build its momentum.
So what really prompted me to get blogging was a smell. You know how a song or a scent can transcend space and time? For me, "Walk Like an Egyptian" reminds me of my brother, Sid, riding on an airplane. And lemon scented soap nearly makes me nauseous because it was my luxury early-pregnancy scent, but lemon furniture oil just smells like home.
Aahh...a clean, dusted home.
Yesterday, Brian was helping Scot fix his back bike brake which kept rubbing against the wheel. Up on the bike rack, I was watching Brian work on all the wires and nuts when it hit me. It was like in a movie where you watch the leaves being blown down the street, making a hard left turn, flowing up five flights of stairs and rushing into someones unsuspecting face--and yet they know what has just miraculously happened. I knew instantly what the smell was and yet when I tried to find it again, it was gone. I searched, wanted it to last because it brought back such a strong memory of crisp air and the road all to myself. The smell was gone, but the memory stayed. My first bike. My only bike. A true surprise for my 10
th birthday.
At first, I thought I could write that I had never asked for a bike, but really thinking about it I know that's not true. I know I asked--probably obsessively for 2-3 years, never expecting to get one. I remember visiting the Sessions family, who lived by the old church, and realizing they had bikes--little bikes, that were made for 4 & 5 year
olds. Bikes that had
training wheels. Wow, they had such cool stuff.
It was beautiful. 10 speed. Red. Perfect except for the foil sticker on the front bar that got smudged up by the brake line when I tried to wash it clean. Fast, except that I'd never ridden a bike before. Only on the back of the Honda with my Dad, who taught me how to lean into a curve. Did I mention 10 speeds?
At first I learned to coast. Luckily there was a slight slope in the road that began at the top of our driveway. I'd walk the bike to the road. Adjust the pedals so I could push with the right foot, then coast down the slope. Walk the bike back up & start all over. Finally getting the hang of the right foot, I added a left pedal, then more and more until I could go and never stop.
Adding turns was tricky. I practiced and practiced until I could make a full 360, taking up both lanes, then just one. Then weaves, in and out of the dotted yellow lines. And then my final challenge: the hill. Not just any hill--a mountain to me. Each day I could go a little further up the hill before I'd have to walk the rest of the way. I remember the feeling when I could finally push up the last 10 feet. Each time it got easier, but the hill never let you forget what you had accomplished. It's reward was the downhill: adjusting the gears, hands in the air, wind in your face, seeing how far you could make it towards home before you had to start pedaling.
I don't think I would have gotten that scent memory any other time than in March, with snow on the ground. Cool air, bike grease, gears & handlebars all combining to give me a wonderful present. And I loved that I received it in the middle of a project-Saturday with my own sons, daughters, and incredibly handy husband.
Easter 2007
