Playing hooky.
My hubby and I played hooky yesterday. It started as a simple idea: Let's ride our bikes downtown and have lunch, but it turned into a major excursion. It was such a beautiful day outside. One of those rare winter days that wakes up thinking it's springtime. Everyone and everything seemed to be in a good mood. The trees looked perky somehow as they drank in a generous helping of sunlight. The birdsong was plentiful, and particularly joyous sounding. I saw dogs trotting around with big smiles on their faces, and little kids on bicycles giggling. I got the idea that Rich and I weren't the only ones playing hooky.
We decided to go to a little cafe we really like that serves diner food. Rich had a nice chicken salad and I had the roast chicken special, with mashed potatoes and gravy, and peas. It was old fashioned food, but it was very yummy. Then we rode to a bike store where Rich could refill his tires, and we decided to take the long way home, circling around a beautiful bike path in our town that runs along a river. When we decided to take the long way, we had no idea how LONG it really was. About thirty minutes into the ride, I realized that we were miles out of our way, and that it would take quite some time for us to get home.
I was sweating. The sun hit my face, and I could practically feel my cheeks turning pink. Soon every time I pumped the pedals felt like a major accomplishment. And we still weren't even halfway home. Rich and I both realized that we had not been exercising nearly enough lately. It's easy to get lazy during the dark, cold winter months.
We finally made it home. Miles was so happy to see us that he ran right into our legs. I think he was feeling very left out that we didn't bring him along, but we haven't figured out how to make Miles and bike rides compatible with each other. We got a couple cold drinks from the refrigerator, and went to our backyard to relax on our fancy lawn chairs. Miles parked himself on my lap, and we watched the light getting long in the sky.
It was a great day, precisely because we weren't doing what we were supposed to be doing. There's something completely luxurious about playing hooky. I would do it more often, but this isn't the kind of thing one can, or should, do very much. Hooky is only fun if it's special. When it stops being special, it turns into something else: slacking.
We decided to go to a little cafe we really like that serves diner food. Rich had a nice chicken salad and I had the roast chicken special, with mashed potatoes and gravy, and peas. It was old fashioned food, but it was very yummy. Then we rode to a bike store where Rich could refill his tires, and we decided to take the long way home, circling around a beautiful bike path in our town that runs along a river. When we decided to take the long way, we had no idea how LONG it really was. About thirty minutes into the ride, I realized that we were miles out of our way, and that it would take quite some time for us to get home.
I was sweating. The sun hit my face, and I could practically feel my cheeks turning pink. Soon every time I pumped the pedals felt like a major accomplishment. And we still weren't even halfway home. Rich and I both realized that we had not been exercising nearly enough lately. It's easy to get lazy during the dark, cold winter months.
We finally made it home. Miles was so happy to see us that he ran right into our legs. I think he was feeling very left out that we didn't bring him along, but we haven't figured out how to make Miles and bike rides compatible with each other. We got a couple cold drinks from the refrigerator, and went to our backyard to relax on our fancy lawn chairs. Miles parked himself on my lap, and we watched the light getting long in the sky.
It was a great day, precisely because we weren't doing what we were supposed to be doing. There's something completely luxurious about playing hooky. I would do it more often, but this isn't the kind of thing one can, or should, do very much. Hooky is only fun if it's special. When it stops being special, it turns into something else: slacking.
posted by Amy at 7:46 AM
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