I ride by this damn tree at least twice a day. For about a week I've told myself I would take a picture of it because it is one of the few things that has color in this gray city. Today I took a picture of all the leaves on the ground.
I booked my tickets to the UK for christmas. It will be nice to be there again, if only for a week. I've missed being called a yank. I will be spending the holiday with Tom and his family. I've known Tom for 8 (!) years now. I will be friends with Tom my whole life, despite only seeing him occasionally. He speaks the queens English.
The ride is getting character. By "character" I mean "rusted and thrashed". Even the u-lock is showing its age. We'll see how the slicks handle the ice.
Some jerk stole the lights off my bike while I had coffee with Kathi. She lives in the hood apparently. Also, she thinks it is funny when I refer to distances in "blocks". She thinks it sounds very ebonic. Luckily the Malmö police were too busy looking for the serial immigrant-assisian (google it) to give me a ticket for riding around without proper safety precautions.
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How is "blocks" considered ebonics? What do foreigners call it?
ReplyDeleteEbonics as in "stay off my block foo'". A stretch, I know. Everything is measured in meters, which still means very little to me.
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