Waiting for tomorrow

So I just wrote about 300 words of fiction that I was going to post. I was thinking about starting a serial story that I'd work on over the summer. Maybe try to do a few. Not so easy. I mean I can write a few words of a story, but then to be committed to it ... well the beginning better be good. So I'm not convinced yet. When I get a good start you'll know it. But for now I'd say that the heat's getting to me. A friend said this afternoon that it's a good day to stay inside. If that's true, then in Manitoba there aren't many good days to be outside: too hot, too cold, too many bugs, too windy. What are we doing here anyway?

Which might be a question the guys who ride the Paris-Roubaix might ask just when they're just under two-thirds of the way through a great day of riding, as they begin to ride "the hell of the north." Every Sunday, in Spring, since the late 1800s, they still do this crazy thing. Here's a link to "A Sunday in Hell". A documentary of the race, as it was in the middle 1970s.

No riding today for me. Totally wimped out. It was the heat. Tomorrow will be a better day.