Pretzel Boy wins!

Mr. Picky will now and forever be known as:

Pretzel Boy



This was Pretzel Boy winning the limbo contest at the 15th annual Blue Hills Mountain Bike Discovery Day this past Sunday. We had gone on a last-minute whim. What a blast! Guided trail rides, a bike obstacle course, and bicycle skills contests, all hosted by the Department of Conservation and Recreation, the Blue Hills TrailWatch, and the New England Mountain Bike Association.

Pretzel Boy won a very nice Camelbak, donated by Dave's Bike Infirmary. He was so flushed with pride. That Camelbak didn't leave his side for the rest of the day. I'm surprised he didn't sleep with it. It went with him to school today.



And as a mom, my heart sang right along with his. You see. He's one of those kids. One of those who, for whatever reason, never finds his or her niche in mainstream sports. Their shelves are bare of soccer (or baseball, basketball, football, hockey, tennis, swimming) trophies. Except maybe for one or two small momentos from the peewee leagues. So for him, this was the buzzer-beating shot. The game-winning touchdown. The ace down the line for the game, set, match. He'd never felt that rush of victory before. It was new, and it was sweet.

Ride on, Pretzel Boy.

In season

One thing I love about New England is its four seasons. In Austin, seasons went something like this: summer, super summer, and fallwinterspring. So for me, this is a profound shift in the way we live. The rhythms of our days are now so influenced by the seasons. The freeform, barefoot summer turns to brisk fall with neverending leaf-raking. The dark, too-short days of winter are for skiing and sledding and shoveling snow. And for huddling under a throw with some tea and a book.

Now that it's full-fledged spring, we're swept up in springtime activities. Sunday afternoon featured the Newton Community Farm seedling sale and Bike Newton's 3rd annual Rally & Ride.

I feel so fortunate to have a working farm nearby, especially in a town that's so close to Boston.



Throngs of people milled about tables laden with seedlings. The crowds thrummed with happy anticipation. Perhaps they were thinking of this summer's muskmelons or fresh pesto. The farm folks were very organized, and had plenty of people to help and answer questions about varieties.



Purple mizuna. Isn't it lovely? Our yard has very few beds (if any) that get full sun so we concentrated on lettuces. Mmmm...spring mix from our garden. What a concept!



A bounty of beautiful heirloom tomatoes. I did say we don't have full sun, right? But we bought tomatoes anyway. We live in hope.



The world's tiniest oregano. My son insisted. Our children also insisted on a popcorn plant. I'm not even sure what you do with fresh popcorn. I'll figure it out if it actually produces something.



There was even a play area for the children with toys and a tree swing. On the way out, children could plant seedlings if they wanted.



Afterwards, we went to the Bike Newton event. Food, live music, booths, and a three-mile bicycle ride with Newton Mayor Setti Warren. What a fantastic turnout of enthusiastic cyclists...young and old on bicycles of all shapes, colors, and sizes, including a tandem bike, recumbent, bike trailers, and trail-a-bikes. Spring fun in New England.

Pash on Pashley

I first saw her at Harris Cyclery in Newton while picking up my son's bike. It's officially spring, and the cycling season is starting. (That is, of course, if it ever stops raining.) Now presenting Her Royal Highness, the Princess Sovereign of Pashley, "hand building British bicycles since 1926."

Oops! Is my Anglophilia showing? I'll tuck it away then. Yes, the name is a wee bit over the top.

But just look. A wicker basket. And a dynamo-operated headlamp that's powered by pedaling. And a rear carrier. And the most musical little dingdong bell. It manages to sound whimsical and prim both at once.

I can picture myself pedaling along country lanes. Perhaps to visit the vicar at the parsonage? No. Wait. That's an Agatha Christie novel. But I can see myself pedaling to Whole Foods and virtuously bringing back groceries on the carrier. Look, Ma. My carbon footprint is shrinking! Of course, I doubt I can bring back a week's worth of groceries for five on that carrier. Not unless we all went on a serious diet. And there is the matter of hauling the Princess up the hill to my house. She may be beauteous, but I think she's a sturdier lass than her svelte titanium racing peers.

Of course, we have no garage to house the Princess so until we build a garage/shed, I'll just have to dream.