Better red than dead

Alrighty then. I am going forward with the red kitchen.

And since I am not starting another blog (there are about 15 on my dashboard right now for crying out loud) you will just have to put up with reading about remodeling stuff here if I feel like babbling about it.

But today I don't feel like babbling about it. I'll just post a pic of my current plan and leave it at that for now.

I do feel like babbling about frustration.

Last night's ride was full frustration. I couldn't do anything right. I was wussy, out of balance, not in the mood (we're talking cycling here folks, just to be clear and all). Each time I bobbled or klutzed out, the frustration grew. And of course, when that happens its a vicious cycle and things just get worse.

Mine culminated in me slipping on a groove and doing a slow motion spillover into a thorny blackberry bush. It was one of those spills that leaves you all tangled and stuck, all retarded and helpless. I was flopped over in the bushes, where every movement led to a new thorn in me, with my bike on top and my feet still clipped in.

And I was stuck there...both physically and mentally.

I knew I wasn't hurt bad, but I wanted to cry. Not for the thorns, or the lack of grace, or the bruised booty, or even the fear that I was disappointing him. It was for all of the things that had been bottled up and shelved aside. Whatever those things are. Some I can name and some I can't. They are usually small and insignificant, but when piled on they can crush. And sometimes, when riding, you are so stripped down in essence, that those things can't hide. And they come out.

And fall into the blackberry bushes.

Luckily I have a partner with supreme patience and genuine love. He gave me just the right amount of support and space (such a fine balance between those two) and a kick in the ass. And luckily too that riding cross bikes is so godamn fun. By the end of the ride, the demons had fluttered away, the smile was on, and I was riding like a champ. I was still klutzing out, I'm sure, because I always do...but I felt like a champ anyway.

Bike riding and red kitchens. Keeping me sane.