Today I sadly report the theft of my bicycle. Sometime between 2:30 and 11:00pm on Friday, someone came up to our house, opened the front gate (the entire front yard is fenced), walked up to the porch, and took my bike. Just like that. No, it wasn't locked up, and for almost two years it didn't need to be. The other thing is that with our schedules, there is almost always someone home, and we don't have regular schedules. I am home all but two days a week! The one evening I go out to have some beers after a meeting this happens (Puritanical analysis: I'm being punished for not working hard enough!). Luckily M.'s bike was at work.
I totally blame irritating developer-dude who, for the past several months, has brought scads of construction crews onto the property at all hours of the day most days of the week. I figure this has multiplied the number of people who know our little house even exists, because you can't really see it from the street if you're just driving by. We talked all winter about how we needed to move my bike to the storage garage - of course! And last Fall I just got a full tune-up and a new front fork put on it, with a new headlight too. Needless to say I have been very depressed about this - as I do tend to form unhealthy attachments to inanimate objects. I bought this bike in 1996 from a little shop in Moscow, Idaho. The longer I have something, the harder it is for me to let go of it - it becomes a source of pride a la "I've had this ______ for 17 years!"
The other part that's depressing is the feeling victimized - that someone had the audacity to walk up to our front door and take something that was mine. So now, just in time for SXSW and springtime riding opportunities, I have no bike. Saturday M. took me to Flip Happy Crepes to cheer me up, and then we went to Lowe's and bought a "No Trespassing" sign. I haven't hung it up yet, but I'm looking forward to making our house look like drug dealers live there.
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