Perfect timing

Saturday, Leon went for a big hike. To kill time awaiting the impending non-rapture, Ira and I hit the local park, ate some lunch and then went book shopping at the thrift store. I love Deseret for kids books! I always find a bunch of classics, Caldecott winners and rad books for boys there. My guess is that they're cast-offs from conservative Mormons who receive the evil tomes as gifts. Anyway, I found a couple of good ones for Ira. I'd show him a book and say, "hey, I found a book for you." Then he'd approve or decline. In the same spirit, he brought me this book and in an almost sing-song tone he says "mom, I found a book for you." I'm not kidding. It was too perfect. I had to restage the moment for a photo.

Root looks like a baby

Whoa. Check out what nature made. I found this weird parsnip at the co-op. It's kind of creepy. Do not attempt to recall this picture while you're trying to fall asleep tonight.

Today I feel absolutely crippled with neck pain (that's probably exaggerated). Is it possible to have your head dislocated (that is extremely exaggerated)? I need a chiropractor to take my head off and put it back on my neck gently, then make my back sound like a bag of microwave popcorn. Can this be done for around $40? Anymore than that and I feel like it's a rip off. Do chiropractors do Groupons?

Breaking away

Ever since I ran that race in October, my shin has been a bit achy off and on. I decided to start cycling to keep my cardio work up and to lessen the stress on my shin. My regular bike is pretty old and not in great shape. It has only one gear, but it's not one of those hipster bikes. I scoured Craigslist for a couple of weeks looking for a better bike. Just in time for Mother's Day, we found this pristine (read: probably never ridden) blue-green beauty!

It's super tiny and the wheels are different sizes, which I found out is great for short ladies. It's a breeze to ride, nimble and reactive. Most importantly, it has gears! Hills, I will waste you with my '80s bike.

Rolling through Citrus Heights last night, I remembered last year when Ira made a passionate critique on a (then) new-ish installed public art sculpture: “that’s not even art!” He was 3. I’m just going to go ahead and set this kid up with his own blog.