659.19677028242

That's the Dewey Decimal number for a book about advertising your home weaving projects. At least I'm reasonably sure it is. (It doesn't really matter in real life because no library would be crazy enough to have a 14+ digit call number!)

This, my friends, is how I've spent a major chunk of my holiday weekend Saturday. It could be worse -- LC classification makes Dewey look like a walk in the park! Luckily I've gotten most of the LC stuff done with my study group.

I also took the bike out again and rode up to Spy Pond where I watched the geese and read a chapter from"The Invisible Man" for my history class. From there, on to Arlington Center where I ate an orange croissant and did some more reading. After that I followed the path a while longer to roughly the border of Lexington. I felt like I was losing steam, so I turned around. At that point I realized that I'd been pedaling up a shallow grade -- which is probably why I was feeling sluggish. The return trip went a lot quicker. At Arlington Center I got off the bike path and rode back along Broadway, which was also a pretty easy ride despite the traffic. I don't know how far I actually went -- I've got to get a cycling computer for the bike so that I can keep track of these things. (The real question is am I brave enough to attempt the 6-mile ride into Boston to get to school.)

When I got back, I vegged on the deck for a with Ralph Ellison and a beer, then headed back to Dewey Land.

Tomorrow's Easter, but I don't really have any plans. I was originally considering going home, but I had too much schoolwork stacked up to give up the travel time. So it's probably going to pretty much be just another day, other than the fact that I may actually go to church for once.

Boston by bike

Last Friday I purchased a bike, my first since sometime in high school. Tuesday morning I ignored the homework I should have been tackling and instead took it for a spin. I started out heading toward "downtown," but soon reveresed course and headed out through Davis square and onto the Minuteman bike path toward Arlington. The weather was beautiful, and eventually I made my way to Spy Pond. I sat on a bench watching ripples course through the reflections of budding trees and a white church steeple. Two geese paddled placidly around the pond, keeping a wary eye on a woman who was swimming in their general direction. An extended family was gathered at the water's edge -- two young kids were busily occupied chucking handfulls of pebbles into the pond while their elders conversed in rapid-fire Korean. I soon had to turn around and head back for work. But the sunny morning at the pond set the tone for the rest of my day.

Today I got up a bit early and biked to my internship in Charlestown. I think this was a longer trip than the Tuesday ride, and also involved far more hills and intense traffic. I made it on time, and made it back without major injury. Go me!

For my last 9 months or so in Nashville I'd gotten in the habit of going to the gym 3-4 times per week. Since it was at work I could get in at any hour, so it wasn't a problem to stop in even if I was heading home at midnight. And it was working -- I've shed close to 100 pounds in the last year.

Now I'm relying on the gym at school, which keeps "normal" hours. I'm often in work, classes, or study groups until late evening, so it's sometimes hard to make it to the gym. I've probably been averaging once a week since I started going again a month or two ago.

The fact that I'm walking a lot more than I used to certainly helps. On most days I walk about 30-40 minutes as part of my daily commute. But I'm hoping the bike will give me another way to keep up the routine.

A few winter snapshots:

Hoisting furniture over up to my balcony on an unseasonably warm day, January 2006.

Another move in photo. Note that I'm now showing my Tennessee pride. I bought the sweatshirt in Nashville years ago, but never wore it there for fear of being mistaken for a Vols fan! Honestly, officer, I have no idea where that sign came from!

Making good use of gravity to get the moving blankets back to the truck.

That's just how important I am up here. I even have my own port-a-john!

Hiking on the freezing cold beach, March 2006.

Later in the hike we discovered the mansion of some filthy rich turn-of-the-century industrialist.

On the chairlift at Jay Peak, March 2006.

My friend Marty doing his level best to burn down his newly-remodeled kitchen, April, 2006.

The commute

Walking to the T. Early afternoon sun shines obliquely through the trees lining College Ave. Warm breeze -- feels like spring. On the platform at Davis, an old man picks bluegrass banjo next to his lazy-looking black dog. Two quarters from my disorganized backpack plunk into the banjo case as the train glides into the station. Porter. Harvard. Central. Kendall. We glide smoothly up and over the Charles, Boston bound. Twin obelisks of the Bunker Hill Monument and the graceful Zakim bridge crest the distant horizon to the sound of Glenn Miller's Tuxedo Junction. Off the train at Park Street -- bustle of feet rushing up the stairs to the green line platform. The D-line train comes before my usual E. I hop on -- the longer walk on the other end means more time to enjoy the weather. Off at Fenway, rushing toward work. Sidewalk Sam is chalking a Matisse on the pavement while the geese graze on the Fenway. Almost there. I arrive at my desk 10 minutes late, but it's worth it.

(actually written a week or two ago, but I forgot to post it!)