Beyond the Mopac Bridge

(Image from forum.dallasmetropolis.com)

Time for another bridge post. And no, this one isn’t about the Mopac bridge. For the first time ever, I present to you the bottom of a different bridge. The Lamar Boulevard Bridge, the one east of the Mopac Bridge across Town Lake in Austin, Texas, the United States of America.

The Great Divide: A Question of Color

Photo: redandwhitekop.com

For many years now, there has been a huge rift within our family, caused by traffic lights. T and I are in permanent disagreement and our son B is pretty firmly on my side. R is undecided, but I’m convinced she will see the light (I couldn’t resist)  in due time.

Freedom vs Safety (No, This Is Not About the War on Terror)

Photo: tellurideinside.com

Every now and then I make myself unpopular with many of my neighbors. We have a Yahoo group, which is great, because with lightning speed we can get the word out about a lost dog or a scam artist in the neighborhood. But sometimes it can get contentious, and when it does, it seems that I’m often right in the middle of it. I have no idea why, because I’m just mild, non-confrontational, li’l ole me, right readers?

FIve of the Hardest Things I’ve Ever Done

A much younger R

Well, let’s see.

Literally one of the hardest things was the first time I dived off a diving board. This was in a swimming pool in Switzerland. I was twelve, and on vacation with my then best friend Dees. We went to that pool several times, and she dove in like a pro. Toward the end I finally took what was meant to be the plunge. But it was a belly flop instead. Although the term belly flop doesn’t really cover it. A flop sounds soft. This was not soft. In fact, I can still remember just how hard it was, slapping flat onto that water. Very hard indeed.

Introducing the Bakfiets

I don’t have inspiration for anything right now, at least not for anything upbeat, which it is time for after a few rants. But here’s an amazing woman in Portland who cycles around six kids in a bakfiets. (Yep, apparently they’ve adopted the Dutch word. So much better than apartheid!)

Most of those kiddos would be cycling on their own by now in Holland, but I wouldn’t let my kid cycle in American traffic either. But to then get a bakfiets instead of a minivan? Wow! That takes guts, and a hell of a lot of muscle!

A Little Rant About Bikes

There’s nothing quite as aggravating as buying a bike in this country when you’re Dutch. The kids needed new bikes and I kind of wanted a bike, too. I had bought one at Goodwill a few years ago, but it didn’t feel right.

The Kids on the Bus

It’s summer vacation again. Schools are closed for about three months. A quarter of the year. No, this is not a post about the ridiculous length of American school vacations.