So, I bought a bike today. A cheapie from Wally-World, using the theory that I often used to advise people interested in taking up a new shooting sport: You want to get into shooting sporting clays (or whatever)? Don't blow a mint on a Perazzi. Buy a used Remchesterberg shotgun and see if you like it first. There's nothing worse than blowing a ton on a new hobby and finding you're no good at it or it bores you, and now you're stuck with a gigabuck's worth of gear you don't need. (I also bought a cheapie WalMart bike because I'm poor, but that's a whine for another day...)
Anyway, we took a four mile spin on the Monon Rail Trail and, despite not having been on a pedal bike in, oh, twenty-two years or so, I had a great time. I guess it's true that you never really forget how.
RobertaX did up some steaks & shrooms with corn on the cob and lovely tossed salads for dinner and we watched The Man Who Knew Too Little, which she hadn't seen and I'm always up for watching again. It's a brilliant farce, with one of the cleverest scripts in movie history.
And now I'm going to put myself to bed to the gentle susurrus of fireworks outside, which will lull me to sleep with the soft sounds of Stalingrad in early 1943. It hasn't been a bad Independence Day at all.