SOMEDAYS...

THE LULU CHRONICLES

LuLu-ism #7: Somedays they ain’t nothing go right.

Ever have those days when nothing seems to go your way? When every step is like pulling your feet out of mud? Can’t you hear that messy, suction-y slurp right now? You know what I’m saying. Well, that was my yesterday. I was anxious. I couldn’t stick with anything. And, I kept dropping stuff and stumbling over stuff and running into stuff. When I laid my head down last night on my pillow, I thanked the good Lord that I got through the day without losing a limb or accidently putting the dog in the refrigerator.

Today has been much better. I’m on task and I’ve even been able to check a few items off of my ‘to do’ list. So, I figured it was safe to hop on LuLu and go for a spin. I mean, I hadn’t bumped into a wall today or lost anything. So, here I am peddling, against a blustery wind by the way, but still enjoying the scenery, when all of a sudden, I guess my peddling startled this duck floating in the ditch beside me, and wouldn’t you know, that silly duck flapped so close to my head I lost my balance and almost toppled over into the ditch myself. Who knew it was so dangerous out there? Suddenly, all of yesterday’s mishaps and anxieties dropped before my eyes like a projection screen and I felt my confidence leave. What should I do? Turn around and walk LuLu home? I was about a mile from the house. Or bravely trudge on?

I got right back in the saddle, my friends and started peddling. As I turned the corner on to Old Country Club road, I was humming the theme song to Chariots of Fire at the top of my lungs. Da da da da da dum… da da da da da! No duck was going to keep me from accomplishing my goal of a three-mile ride! No brisk wind was going to make me skip my date with LuLu! The only thing that could have defeated me… was me.

Needless to say, LuLu and I got home safely with no more duck malfunctions. And I must say, I was a little bit proud of myself. The old gal still has enough balance in her legs to keep from sprawling into a watery ditch, and the Fake Knee rose to the occasion and kept me upright.

Got challenges? I say, meet them head on and stare the duck down!

Later,

deb

GOOD GRIEF!

LuLu-ism #4: There are days you’re simply not going to be able to do what you want. Whatever! Just don’t let those days pile up on you.

Lovely picture isn’t it? Ah, December in Wisconsin. Wrong! I took this picture of my backyard this morning, April 20, 2011. I want to weep—so do my daffodils and tulips. Can you believe it? Where’s all that global warning they keep telling us about?

Well, LuLu is just shaking her handlebars at me and just daring me to go near her. Looks like it’s Rusty to the rescue. My old exercise bike will have to save the day for me… again. There’s nothing more frustrating than to do all this peddling and go absolutely nowhere. Yikes! Have I stopped talking about bike riding and started preaching? Think about it, how many of us live our lives that way? Spinning, spinning, spinning and going nowhere? I know I have at times. I’m busy. It’s hectic. There’s so much to do. Yet, when I take a moment to look up from all my spinning, I find I’ve done nothing of value, except work up a sweat.

Life’s too short, folks, to allow busy work to rule. Yeah, there’s no getting around the fact that living on this planet requires a certain amount of just running in place. However, shouldn’t we expect more? I want scenery. I want purpose. I want joy. Don’t settle; at least don’t settle for long.

Okay, old Rusty will have to do for today and from the looks of it, tomorrow as well. But I deserve more. And so do you.

Blessings,

deb

THE LULU CHRONICLES

LuLu-ism #3: Let's be honest here, they simply don't make a comfortable bike seat. I don't care how big the honking thing is, it's going to hurt your cowgirl, period. And, it's going to hurt for a very long time.




You may have heard that yesterday (April 18) was my birthday. Thanks to so many who e-mailed, Facebook-ed or called with such sweet wishes for the day. As I had hoped, I did get to ride my bike yesterday. The wind died down, the sun popped out and 42 degrees it turns out is okay bike-riding weather. So I jumped on LuLu and did something I always do on my birthday, I visited a graveyard.

I've been snooping around in graveyards on my birthday for many years now. No, it's not the morbid in me, it's the writer in me that calls me to these places. Do you know how many stories are buried there? So much history. Yesterday, I visited with a guy who was born in 1773! He lived almost a hundred years! You might be wondering what he told me, yes? Well, grave stones can tell you a lot about a person. He was a beloved husband, father and German. He lived very close to where my house is now. I know that because this little graveyard is across the road from an old church building that used to be the worship house of a congregation of German Lutherans. Several years ago, the old church building was renovated into a house. A lot of Swiss and German folks settled in this area when they got off the boats. They started farms, built a church, raised their families and lived and died in this ten-mile radius around my house. Cool, huh?

Others folks were lying near by like Heida, Gertrude, Wilhelm and about seventy-five others. I sat there under a tree and wrote a couple of vignettes about a few of them. Someday, one of them might show up in one of my stories.

LuLu looked out of place in the graveyard-- all that pink and those shiny spokes surrounded by all that old, mildewed stone. Yet, she turned into a metaphor right before my eyes: Never forget the past, but don't linger there too long. Visit and remember those who went before and what they can teach you, then hop on your bike and get out there and live. Make your own memories. Tell your own story. Leave your own mark.

So, I did. I paid my respects and then LuLu and I took off. I sang out loud as I peddled. I can do that because I live out in the country and no one can hear me. And, I'm now sixty years old. I've decided that sixty-year-olds can get away with a lot if we look pitiful enough at times. The Fake Knee had a hard time keeping up, but the old gal hung in there. The Cowgirl, on a pain scale of one to ten, with ten being screaming-out loud-painful, was still at about an eight, yet, we peddled on. I spied my first spring Cardinal, a big fluffy guy perched on a branch looking like royalty. A couple of bunnies hopped across the road in front of me. And, a rooster had the audacity to chase me down the road. If looks could kill, I'd be laying in the gravel right now with that feathered bully still picking at my flesh.

All in all, it was a good day. I've decided to make this a birthday week. I'm sixty. I can do anything I want.

love you guys,
deb

MEET LULU

Meet LuLu. She’s my new bike. I got her for my 60^th birthday even though I’m not quite sixty yet. I will be April 18. I wanted to get a head start with my bike riding since here in Wisconsin if you don’t get outside right when the ground starts to thaw, you’ve missed spring. You may be asking yourself, “Why would a sixty-year- old want a bike anyway?” Good question. My answer: I think it will be a great way to try and get my aching, aging, overweight, almost, practically disabled body back in shape…she said foolishly. So here’s the deal: As of today, I’m starting The LuLu Chronicles. For some reason my new little Schwinn bike has the name “LuLu” painted on her. Go figure. But it fits, I think. I want to ‘record’ my progress or lack of and hopefully learn something along the way about myself, challenges, longsuffering and anything else my new friend, LuLu, thinks I need to know. I’m actually going to write this blog as if someone is reading it. Although I do think I have three faithful readers. Bless your hearts.

Actually, I’m on day two of bike riding after a week of trying to find the perfect bike seat. Three seats later, bingo! I think I’ve found the largest bike seat this side of the Mississippi. I still hang off of it a bit, if you know what I mean, but it will do nicely. Of course, just because my new seat is the size of Montana and Wyoming combined, doesn’t mean it’s comfortable or that I’ve been able to avoid the dreaded ‘bike butt’ phase of my new venture. For the record, from now on, I think I will refer to my butt and all those parts near by as ‘the cowgirl’ (you know, the bike seat being the ‘saddle’ and all). I’m doing this to avoid any shady characters that happen to Google looking for porn the trouble of finding their way to my sight. That just creeps me out. Plus, it sounds more lady-like, sort of. Anyways, the cowgirl has bike butt after two days of being in the saddle.

Here are my challenges:

I’m middle aged. (Yes, I plan on living to be 120)

I’m over weight.

I have an artificial knee that is a HUGE whiner.

And… I have a terrible track record of sustaining anything that’s good for me for longer than, let’s say, three and a half minutes.

So there you have it. Day Three of bike riding will start tomorrow. If you’d like, join me along the way. I’d like company. Let’s see what we can learn…

deb

PS. The dog in the picture with LuLu and me is Murphy. Little does he know that I've order a little 'doggie basket' for him that fits on my handle bars. Aren't we going to have fun (heh-heh).