Apple Pie

This iron bed, I've slept in it many of nights.  and in a few different houses.  It used to be upstairs in my Great Grand parents house. 
During the 3 nights I spent in Beaver, the trains rolled along the river.  I woke 3 or 4 times, the low rumble, trembles, a rattle in the room, awakening me.   The kinda thing that will be a good memory.
It was a good weekend, of racing.       Monday we all sat in the living room, with cups of coffee, the house quiet, we talked.  Just whats on our mind talk.  My mom and I and Michael,  my stepfather.
Sunday morning, my Mom had a bit to do, and with rain forcasted, seemed better to me that I head out to the CX race on my own.
For breakfast I had apple pie.

I did not set an alarm, I woke while it was just before dawn, I laid in the bed, and the sun rose.  The light slid into the room.  

The bicycle has given me patience, perseverance, confidence.  It burns off my abundant over-exhuberent energy.  my goals for the season, of not needing to beat someone, I've learned, learned that my effort, my drive, I own.  I race to win every race.      Saturday, I heard my Mom cheering for me as I rode by, I got passed and could not catch back up, ended up 3rd.  I gave my mom my phone and she took the photo.

I like this time of night, the house is quite, I hear pascal, one of the cats, eating dry food.  I'm going to grab a beer from out off the porch,  its a cold night, so the beers are quite well chilled.   Its dark in the house, and I'll sip, and not really think, just relax.   the christmas garland and holiday strands of lights,  entwined, give a nice glow.    I'm tired from 3 good long days of work. 


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