In order to keep harmony in our home, I am compelled to blog now and then. I do enjoy reading the family blog, though it seems to have a single focus these days. I've been safely coasting along in the family blog peloton, but now I'm breaking away to post again. My Mac cannot support the posting, and I'm now using the PC. So I'm back from the silent period of reading and not responding.
I am enjoying the Tour de France. Yesterday was a day off, and I was glad to catch up on other responsibilities. I found myself anxious last night, though, to watch the next stage. To me, it's been like reading a good book...a real page turner. The kind where I can't put the book down because I want to know what will happen in the next chapter, er -- stage. I enjoyed the stage today. The countryside and towns, the blue sky with puffy clouds, and the crash! What? Again. Yes, and this time the cameras seemed to capture the whole thing. A guy hit a thing in the middle of the road and some one hit him and tumbled hard. The second guy already had a BIG bandage on his forearm. I'd be thinking..."I could be on a swim team. This is crazy! Neosporin and an Advil please. And airlift me to the nearest...hot tub! But no, not the mighty cyclism warriors. Back on the mighty steel (or some speedy alloy?)steed with wheels and charge forth. Just for the chance to wear polka dots? Or some other color shirt. Just go to the closet and pick one! What's the big deal? [I'm kidding. Of course, I get it and know it is not just to wear a new shirt!]. Can someone, however, explain to me how a guy who's name I never hear mentioned day-to-day during the race ends up keeping the yellow jersey? How does that work exactly? I am clearly missing something simple and obvious to the family experts, no doubt.