This morning
I made a cup of coffee.
Next to the Keurig Machine,
I noticed a folder.
Interesting.
I walked with my coffee
to look out the front door.
Gotta luv fresh air.
I walked upstairs.
Holding the coffee
and a pile of clean, unfolded laundry.
I kept dropping pieces of the laundry.
And my coffee spilt.
Haha.
I walked into my room.
On my dresser
saw the Sylvia Plath journals
that I read last summer.
Opened to a random passage.
Sylvia Plath was an American writer.
To me, her journals are painful
and inspiring
in a way I can feel
and relate.
I took the sheets off my beed.
I mean, bed.
Put on new sheets.
Had to spin the bottom sheet around four times.
To find the correct edges.
I folded clothes.
Including
this shirt.
I changed into a tank top
so I wouldn’t get a
t-shirt tan.
Stretched my leg.
Left hand
to left leg.
Wearing a helmet with the number 29182 on it,
my Dad turned off the television.
We left on a bike ride.
On Hylan Boulevard,
we joined a
police escorted
motorcycle ride.
Saw my neighbor Eddie.
He said “hi” to us.
And smiled.
My Dad shot lightening from his finger
twice.
We biked for miles.
Through Staten Island.
Up a hill.
Saw three deer.
Got to Pouch Camp.
A camp ground on Staten Island.
Where my Dad attended Boy Scouts camp
as a child.
50 years ago.
The pathway was lined with
words on wooden signs.
Trustworthy, Citizenship, Compassion, Perseverance, Positive Attitude, Resourcefulness, Thrifty, Brave, Clean, Respect, Responsibility.
I think these are great qualities to have in life.
We walked to the water.
Took a photo
with my iPhone 6’s
self-timer.
He described memories
from the camping/sleeping area.
They slept 4 to a hut.
The hut protected them
from bears attacking them from behind.
It was great.
We walked through a
memorial pathway.
We left
and rode more.
To a break spot.
Overlooking the Manhattan skyline.
Rode home.
A total of 17 miles.
My Dad found a newspaper article he put aside.
About a man who rides his bike around America.
“Forget about psychiatrists or therapists,” is his advice. “Just get on a bike. You can’t be angry, can never stay in a foul mood [after a bike ride]. You have to smile.”
After a bike ride
my Dad and I always feel great.
I made myself a veggie wrap.
Ate it
while watching Alvin!!!! and the Chipmunks.
Great.