*daily life irritability syndrome
·
The cat threw up sometime last night
and I stepped in it in my bare feet.
·
In clearing leaves from the roof, a section of
plastic gutter guard came free and while replacing it, I tore an asphalt
shingle back far enough to probably cause a leak.
·
In the process of moving clean glasses from the
dishwasher to their rightful shelf, two – not one, but two – ended up busted on
the floor.
·
My 12v compressor chose to take the day off, so
I had to use a bicycle pump to correct tire pressure.
·
And the more I read about the circumstance, the
more it appears that the leader of the Free World may be, clinically speaking,
about a half-a-bubble off of plumb.
·
Did I mention the cat throwing up?
It had been a couple of weeks since I’d hopped on Enrico,
the Yamaha, for a personal therapy session. Apparently, it’d been too long. Little things were bugging me way too much. And then there’re those perceptions
about the President. A nasty case of Daily Life Irritability Syndrome (DLIS) had
me feeling like kids’ book author Judith Viorst’s “Alexander” having a string
of “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days.”
This November 30th was
smack dab in the middle of a weeklong predicted dry spell. Area temps in the Dry Creek / Russian
River Valley viticulture region(s) were slated to be in the low sixties. Roads would be dry. Traffic would be sparse. Chores could wait.
Dutcher Creek Road heads south out of town, paralleling US
101 for a few miles. Then it
angles west-southwest, undulating and turning and rising and falling on a five-mile
strip of refreshed pavement. The
low sun of late autumn rests just above a westerly ridgeline even though it’s
only 1:30 in the afternoon. The
vineyards at Fritz Winery, http://www.fritzwinery.com/
where not shadowed by that ridge, seem aflame as their leaves prepare to
fall. And Enrico is just getting
warmed up.
Down to Dry Creek Road, I enjoy a couple of sweeping miles
before heading south on West Dry Creek Road, a delightful barely single-lane
stretch of pavement that hugs the hillside and affords glorious views of the
vineyards and farm houses. Fans of
Perry Mason would probably like to know that the late Raymond Burr’s winery is
out this way. His Emmy is on
display in the tasting room. Check
out this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3x82MQyfuU
Hooking onto Westside Road just west of Healdsburg, I motor
past the Armida Winery – voted best tasting room by some group – the winery
where my daughter cut her teeth making a delightful Zin named “Poizin.” http://www.armida.com/ Don’t let that scare
you! Good stuff.
Out that way we (Enrico and me) pass the historic Felta
School, cross an equally historic steel bridge over the Russian River, bob this
way and that on some really secondary secondary roads, dancing through shaded
sections and sunny ones to find Eastside Road and head back toward Healdsburg. That low sun lights the broad expanse
of the Russian River Valley like Technicolor. Enrico hums along deftly handling the curves and rises.
Suddenly, about an hour in, I realize
that I’ve shed any concerns about cats, roofs, glassware, and compressors and,
almost, any news or views coming out of DC.
I make a quick stop at Big John’s Market in Healdsburg, http://bigjohnsmarket.com/ a delightful
full service grocery with a wide selection of organic produce, locally baked
artisan breads, more micro-brews than anyone could ever taste through, wine, of
course, lots of it, and all manner of foodstuffs you can’t find anywhere
else. Their meat department is
extensive and fully staffed. My favorite friendly butcher helps me pick out a
slab of Coho and a beef filet for tonight’s repast.
Fifteen miles to home, but I already know my case of Daily
Life Irritability Syndrome had been pushed to the deep recesses of my mind. Dismounting, I pat Enrico on his shiny
black tank and say, “Thanks!”
Everything’s gonna be okay.
Are you, too, suffering from
symptoms of DLIS? Ask your doctor
if a late autumn ride on a motorcycle through the loveliest of environs might
be right for you.
© 2017
Church of the Open Road Press
Isn't it great that a wee motorcycle ride can clear the head? I am glad the weather cooperated.
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