I start my ride every weekday with a long beautiful coast down Point Grey Hill. While it can be a little bit breezy, it's always stimulating and fun (except for a few days in the winter season, when there can be a thin icy layer on the road that scares me silly.)
Yesterday, I was late leaving for work, and knew I had to go full out if I wanted to make it to school in time for my first class. As I approached the top of the hill, I saw this.
I stopped and took two photos, telling myself I would just have to hit a new speed record for the remainder of my commute. I should probably add that speed is relative when you're my age. Sometimes, I think I'm positively flying, only to be left in the dust by a real cyclist.
Here is the second shot. It took some time to get this one without the stubborn streak of light that kept inserting itself in the middle of the photo.
On 8th Avenue, a block or so after Alma street, the light was shimmering through this tree, and I thought that might create a more interesting shot. I rather like this third attempt, and if you're curious, I was only two minutes late for school. All in all, a magnificent start to my day.
And now for just a little bit about Bill. First, here's his picture. I call him Beautiful Bill. He calls it his Charlton Heston look. I looked up some photos of Charlton Heston, and I'm not sure I see the connection. Do you?
And just a couple of illustrations to show why I think he's about the best mate anyone could ever ask for. Black Jack was my dog when Bill and I met, but he welcomed her into his life and considers her every need as they go about their days. Bill is retired, so they spend a lot of time together, and I can tell you that Black Jack is one very secure and very happy little rescue dog.
Here, Black Jack has spotted a squirrel on the other side of our fence. She is just about out of her mind, trying to get at it. Bill rushes out and picks her up, so that she can have a better view. This, for some reason, calms her. I run for the camera as the a-a-aw feeling overwhelms me.
In this next picture, Bill is working at his desk when Black Jack asks to join him. He picks her up, but since he worries she may not be perfectly comfortable on his knees, he brings her bed as well. He then patiently waits as I again run for the camera, even though he really does not enjoy having his picture taken.
And a couple of pictures that I like of Black Jack.. just because.
A side note: I asked Bill if he thought these pictures were as cute as I think they are. He answered, "No, I think they're cuter." See what I mean? Then, as I was struggling to load these pictures, we agreed that there's a little man in the computer. My mother came to the computer in her late 80's, and she always talked as though that little guy was just waiting to spite her. My sister and I used to smile at her notion, and I truly thought I had a far superior understanding of computers until I started this blog. Anyhow, then Bill commented that it could possibly be a little woman. I noted that I'd prefer a "Bill" in the computer than a "Carol". I quickly reminded him that no comment was necessary. He said, "My lips are moving, but your voice is coming out." (Maybe you had to be there:)
Finally, a sign that was on the wall at the Foundation Restaurant at Main and 7th. It amused me, although it's a bit of a concern that I'm pretty sure I fit into the third category.
P.S. Final, final note: If you like veggie food, give The Foundation a try. Bill and I love their food. The tremendously loud rap music with the x-rated lyrics did put us old folks off slightly. Our Scottish server with the intriguing hole in the seat of his pants, however, was an absolute delight. He didn't even appear hurt when we thought he was Australian. He did have to draw the line, though, at one of Bill's queries.
Bill: Can we request music?
Waiter: What would you like?
Bill: Do you have any Elvis?
Waiter (with a smile) Fortunately not.