Lazily Industrious

I am nothing if not a lazy man. I hate the hassles of storing my bike in a secure location, kind of like how some people hate making their beds (I among them). I mean, why bring your bike all the way inside or into a shed only to take it out again the next morning? Sadly, I don't have a garage I could just roll into and close the door on. That would be awesome.

The good news is that I am fortunate enough to live in a house with a nice front porch. Being lazy, I would often leave my bike on the porch unlocked and sometimes lay it down so thieves wouldn't spot it in the wee hours. I must admit that I sometimes enjoyed imagining the drunken joy rider variety of thief unknowingly hopping on a fixed gear with only one brake lever for the front that is mounted on the "wrong" side. Despite that fact, this approach was causing me stress since I really do love my bike and somebody with an eye for better bike components might "case" it sooner or later. It was time for a porch lockup.

My LHS (local hardware store) is called Tuckey's Home Hardware, located in Wortley village. I like going there as do many people in Old South, because it is a good old all-purpose decidedly non-big box kind of operation. The good people there provided me with a good beefy chain and a very sturdy padlock. The best hitching ring they had was somewhat less beefy, but I figured it would do...

See how the bracket isn't exactly level? That's because while I was drilling the pilot holes in the brick my head was cocked sideways like a perplexed dog...

You see, for the lazy man, such industrious activities are a bit of a head scratcher. I find it somewhat ironic that one of the few times I got around to doing something around the house, it was because I wanted to be more lazy. In any case, the job got done, and here's my bike in porch lockup:

See those tools and bits of chain? Those are there because I work on my bike on the porch too. I do that because my perfectly good basement tool room / workbench is a terrible mess, so terrible that I can't work comfortably in it. Rather than clean it up, I work on the porch. I am a lazy man.

I know this kind of lockup wouldn't do the trick in some places, but it is plenty where I live, I think. As it happened I had just finished using Boeshield to treat my Trek 520 frame at the time, so I hosed down the chain and ring with it. The waxy feel of dry Boeshield on the chain makes me happy, because I know it probably won't rust for some time.

I know this is a boring post, but that brings to mind another paradox or irony or whatever. When I look at my web statistics (which I have a bespectacled forensic webologist study quarterly in the hopes of boosting my web traffic) it would seem that my visitors prefer my "boring" posts over my "funny" ones... I'm afraid that might mean that what I consider funny is boring and vice versa. To be honest, I don't really care why people come visit me here... I'm just glad you bother at all. Thanks!

Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K

Transcendent Roadside Splendour

A recent post from Steve A at dfw point-to-point was about stopping and checking out some of the things we cruise past all the time. That post reminded me that I've been sitting on some photos of a roadside wonder here in London Ontario. In his case it was something of historical interest, with a sign and everything. My pictures are of something that is privately owned, but is no doubt cherished by the whole neighbourhood where it is found.

I've never been a big fan of garden gnomes and that kind of thing. I mean, huh?

To each his own I guess. I also don't really dig those leaning cowboy silhouette things, either:And although they don't bother me at all, why am I seeing these stars on so many houses?

Are they the new house butterfly? If so, that's too bad, because I like house butterflies. Mrs. Rantwick thinks my tastes in this regard are somewhat misguided. Ah well. They bring me peace.

original image source

Anyway, where was I? I got all blissed out there for a second. Ah yes... outdoor decorations. Well, there are house butterflies (sigh) and all these other things, but what I'm talking about here is something beyond all of that. I'm talking about a front lawn vision. I'm talking about Mother Nature herself. The proud owners of Mother Nature have, naturally, surrounded her with sweet little creatures...

She is deserving of her many followers. Here she is in context:

And here she is on her own (excluding her escort bunny, a turtle, a panting little dog and a tiny toe-sniffing donkey):

I love her. I love knowing that her owners obviously cherish her. I love that people can express themselves any way they want, on their front lawns or otherwise. I'm glad I don't live straight across from her, because, frankly, I would find myself in a constant state of arousal unbecoming a devout worshiper of Mrs. Rantwick. I think I had better stop there.

Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K