Something I Couldn't Do

I'm working on a post about some funky new stuff I've been wearing on the bike that will prove without a doubt that I no longer care very much about how I look. Wait, that's wrong. If I didn't care, I wouldn't write about it. Let's say instead that increasingly, function trumps form when it comes to my choices. Sadly, that means I look a little more freakish with each new development. Thank goodness I'm not single and looking... my prospects would be grim. Not as grim, though, as they would be if I were sporting one of these:

image source: blog.craftzine.com

That is Something Even I Just Couldn't Do.

R A N T W I C K

Mrs. Rantwick calls Me, A Panting Freak

I was looking at and listening to some video I had taken from the bike a few days ago, using one of the two laptops that dwell in our living room, when Mrs. Rantwick looked over at me in alarm. She had an unusual look as she asked, "WHAT are you watching?" I returned her alarmed, somewhat accusatory gaze with my customary blank, clueless one.

A few seconds passed before I managed to figure out what was up. Here's a sample of what she was hearing:

So, with Mrs. Rantwick feeling some concern and with the panting still coming from the speakers, I happily said "that's me ... hang on, we'll hear you in just a few more seconds..." That got Mrs. Rantwick out of her chair in a hurry. Here's what she joined me in watching:

That was Meadowlily Road, one of the few real hills to be found in East London. Those of you who live in mountainous regions would scoff at it as a "climb", but as you could hear, it was enough to work me pretty darn hard even in the lowest of Mutant Winter's eight gears.

See? I Would Never Use The Internet for Anything Interesting.

R A N T W I C K