Luxemburg: Home of Andy Schleck

20.10.10

Wiltz, Luxembourg

I'm in a very particular mood here, having just read some thought-provoking material and consumed two dinners' worth of food (or one gorilla dinner, depending on which units you are more familiar with). With that in mind, I'm going to do things a bit differently today. I call it "Type Away, type A."

(Just know that our Rain Making has not stopped, as the 7th country (following Ireland, N. Ireland, Wales, England, Holland, and Belgium), Luxembourg, has welcomed us with a few million buckets of rain. Thanks, but I prefer buckets of gold.)

Let's begin.

cloudy, rainy, we have the power!, just a theory, never proven, but wet roads make for dirty bikes, music all the time playing through the head, in through the ears and out through the mouth, or in through the eyes, or in through the mouth, but always out in full song by way of larynx.
we bike through thick and thin, rain and shine, but we have much less experience with the lattest.
why are trucks everywhere? on every road? even on the narrow, slow routes that run parallel to the major highways? even the mountain roads where, from the slopes, it would seem that no cars would go, as it were? what do they have to gain, and how am I in their way?
people are kind everywhere, english is not a necessity, language barriers fall in the face of kindness, they crumble to dust at the shade of a smile, and they are easily surmounted with the slightest of efforts. old ladies are the best. old ladies are grandmotherly everywhere. grandmothers are the best.
cheese makes for such a perfect gift. it is light, compact, delicious, nutritious, and packaged just so. it goes great with crackers, bread, fruit, pasta, veggies, other cheese. why did I only have cheddar and swiss growing up? where is the Brie?
rain is wet, rain is cold, rain saps energy, rain destroys happiness, rain removes resolve, rain makes dirty, rain freezes feet, rain blinds movers, rain erases all.
yet rain makes the hills so green!
yet rain gives the milk its sheen!
yet rain provides fuel for the pines!
(whose tops rise near to the sky!)
yet rain turns the sun that much sweeter!
yet rain is the actor, Earth the theater!
small pleasures are amplified, discomfort becomes normal, bread and cheese every day, cities I detest, but architecture is pure beauty, diesel reeks of rank rot and sours even the tongue, one taste and you'd never go back, bike paths are wonderful for their short and unpredictable lengths, sticks and stones are out to get us, nothing is ever cleaned, we are the dirtiest we have ever been, the moments of sheer and unbridled joy far outnumber those of pain and despair.
there is always another day, until you die, at which point you have no more days. if all goes according to their schedule, I have 21170 left, which reminds me to get some fresh bread tomorrow.