This is just nuts. Here we are plotting a 90-mile bike ride tomorrow, and not only do we not have a plan in place yet, we’ve hardly had a chance to get in any bike miles the last week or so.
I can’t whine about the wind and rain in a week when a big chunk of the country got slammed by Frankenstorm. And now another sad development puts this project in context: The death last night of a beloved relative, “Crazy Cousin Vicki,” who’s actually my mom’s first cousin but is — was — the glue that holds the many branches of that family together now that the older generation is passing on.
Depending on the funeral home arrangements her four daughters come up with — I can’t believe they’re all younger than me but have lost both parents already — we’ll see whether we do this bike thing Friday or on our “rain date,” which is Sunday.
I do know this: I’d been wavering on the donation angle of this project, wondering if I should send my ninety bucks to some kind of Sandy storm fund instead of the American Cancer Society. But Vicki’s death, due to lung cancer, clarifies that choice for me. Cancer’s just messed with my family too many times to not get my undivided attention.