For the last time

It was pouring this morning, in keeping with an unusually wet winter in Southeastern Pennsylvania. The rain was heavy enough that even though my driveway isn't very long I took an umbrella to get the newspaper. 
As I was doing it, I realized that after I have my right leg amputated tomorrow, I'll never use an umbrella again. (The cut will be so high that I'll be on crutches for the rest of my life.) I've been thinking about the big things I won't be able to do, of course, but nearly every day little things like that come up. 

https://youtu.be/9urMlYfFn7w

This afternoon I made a video of me coasting into my garage on my bicycle. I can't really ride it anymore—the leg doesn't bend enough—but I've been taking it out lately and walk-coasting it around the neighborhood. There's a steep part that I go fast on and it brings me great joy.

Off the saddle

A man rides a Victorian-era bicycle.

The Complete and Total Loser's history of bicycling for exercise may have come to a close. He rode a few times, OK, twice, some days ago and his right knee—the one on the bad leg—aches and is making him walk like the gimp that he is but tries not to be. This will be sad, if true. The Loser's happiest times are when he's on a bike, exercising, rolling down roads, breathing great lungs full of fresh air. Without it, he'll just sit around and decay, watching his heart lose its tone as he packs on fat. 
Drat.