I've been accused of being an "urban homesteader." I'd prefer to be a rural homesteader, aka a FARMER, but alas, I am shackled still to a cubicle.
On the way home from field day we saw a hand painted sign that read "Organic Tomato Plants $2." Mandy had an appointment she needed to get to, so we went home, I put the "summer" tires on the Cannonball, and Bean and I cruised back through Olde Town to check it out. A really nice lady sold us ten plants and we swung by Echter's for some cages. Unfortunately the weather is looking iffy for the next couple of days so we can't really put them in the ground yet.
When we returned to the Bikeport Bean ejected from the Cannonball and ran to the neighbor kids' house to play. I hung on the old couch and marveled at the wonderful machine that is the Cannonball X. I had hooked up the apocalypse buggy and lashed a plastic tote to it for the hauling of the plants and accoutrements. I hauled ten plants, ten cages and a blond-haired, blue-eyed five year old future mountain bike racer with little effort. I couldn't help thinking: "Who needs a @#$%! car?"
So I milked the chickens and slopped the rabbits. I reconfigured the hutch and moved the coop a few millimeters (I really made the "portable" coop a little too heavy).
After dinner Bean begged to go for a walk around the block, which translates to me chasing after both kids on their bikes at a dead run. At the high end of our street I watched as the princess of princessness turned the corner, blond hair flying in the wind, little legs pumping furiously, and she cried: "Let's see what this baby can do!" And she was gone.
As I ambled down the street she pedaled back up and made another run. Again, she cried: "Watch what this baby can do!" and as she cruised past our yard she pumped a tiny fist in the sky and bellowed: "Yeah baby!"
Then she banked hard into the driveway, dumped her bike in the yard and came running back up the sidewalk toward me with a huge grin on her face. She flung her helmet (with pink flames) into the yard and gave me a spectacular high five. Brought a tear to my eye!
If only five-year-olds could get in the Leadville lottery...