Aloft & Lost

Tuesday, January 29, 2019

I’ve had many adventures while pedaling my English vintage Raleigh Robin Hood Bicycle, circa 1963. It’s carried me up hills and down dales in both Kansas Cities. Those days, I was young, strong, adventurous, and couldn’t afford gasoline for my aging automobile. The bike has remained with me, and occasionally, as a blast from the past I wheel it out. I oil handlebars and wheels, practice thumb-clicking its Sturmy 3-speed Gearbox, and let it roll me down the driveway. I start pedaling, find my balance, and then, wobble up and down a flat street and remember some awful old hills.

Enough biking history, and instead, I’m recalling that yesterday I climbed the stairs leading to my loft and looked around, in dismay but without much surprise, at the dust-covered disarray of disuse and neglect. The mess was anticipated, because one of my knees for months had been painful, and enough to prevent my climbing these stairs. Anyway it’s a nearly-decent excuse for the messy loft.

My knee had failed suddenly, paining me for a long time and hurting so that I barely could tolerate standing and working at my part-time job. I wondered if next summer I’d be capable of climbing into a cart and driving my horse. Maybe I’d need knee replacement surgery with a long healing period, while meanwhile, my animals large and small would require care and feeding. I forgot quickly those danged stairs and the unkempt loft.

Eventually, my knee problem was diagnosed as a torn meniscus, fixable with brief arthroscopic surgery, and me as an outpatient! Knowing this made my knee seem less painful and walking became easier. Okay, let’s not reflect on possible whys, and instead, skip to yesterday’s messy loft atop the stairs. I carried dust cloths and garbage bags, determined to tackle the cleaning.

Eventually, I stood before a wall of dusty shelves stuffed with mostly forgotten books that I’ve dragged from one home to another. While pulling and dusting, I discovered among my beloved classics many surprising titles. For example, when and why did I purchase books on how to raise hermit crabs and bearded lizards, and others teaching how to draw and animate cartoon figures, and big, boring technical onslaughts about repairing computers? The titles suggested dim pieces of a past that I wished to recall, to know when and why I adopted such relatively obscure interests. Yesterday, a piece de resistance was my inability to toss even one not-necessary book. I dusted, examined, and forgave myself for not having pursued some still-intreguing topics.

In a few months, let’s say post-surgery and with a healed knee, I’ll roll out the Raleigh, oil joints, practice with gears, and cruise down the driveway. I’ll pedal toward the loop of streets that circle my neighborhood. I’ll ride the whole way, and with early biking adventures as my baseline, I’ll try to recover some of the forgotten life experiences that drew me to various interests.

Dear Readers, have a wonderful day, with good memories. Diana.