It’s the most wonderful time of the year

2013: not my favorite year. Some jerk ran me over with a car. It ruined most of 2013 for us, but with my full recovery estimated for (most likely) 2015, it’s kind of a gift that keeps on giving. But 2013 decided to slam the door on the way out, too. Over the winter break, I got conjunctivitis in both eyes. Between the infection gluing my eyes shut and the antibiotic ointment fuzzing over what was left of my vision, I couldn’t ride much (or read much, or walk much).

Rest in peace, buddy.

We did go out on Christmas Eve for Chinese food, which was fun (if kind of blurry for me, I rode slowly) until we came home and found that our elderly cat had had a stroke and was immobilized by the front door. Of course our vet closed for the holidays, so we ultimately bundled his poor trembling, incontinent body up in a blanket in front of a heating grate for the next 36 hours or so. On Boxing Day he was still unable to eat or walk so we euthanized him. (“Merry Christmas, kids! We killed your cat.”) I realized as we watched him go that it was the first time I had seen him relax in as long as I could remember. It was the right decision, but crappy timing.

Then when we went to Japantown for mochi making a few days later, the Bullitt’s saddle was stolen. Matt had adjusted the seat and forgotten to put the Pitlock back in place, so it was just a matter of time. That sucked. Then on New Year’s Eve at around noon, the water was shut off, thankfully temporarily. I opened a bottle of wine to welcome 2014, which at that point could not come soon enough.

Let’s be friends, 2014.

So far 2014 has been a relief. Unless you count my son falling over on his bike going up a hill on New Year’s Day—which I don’t, because he’s fine—nothing bad has happened yet. My vision is back to normal, the weather is unseasonably warm, and we are riding every day. Our son is riding his own bike more, and our daughter is mastering the idea of pushing the pedals forward on the trailer-bike.

This promises to be a busy month. One of my dissertation advisor’s rules was: whenever you go away for a week of vacation, there’s always two weeks of work waiting when you get back. Alas, so true.  But I appreciate the return to a familiar routine. I try not to take life for granted too much, and most days, it’s nice just to be able to ride again. Here’s to a lot more of that in the new year.