Regular maintenance

First  off, there were no pastries yesterday. I know I swore there would be. I was ready for it. Prepared. I had my camera. I was dressed and breakfasted and brushed and ready. He wasn't. He was in no hurry whatsoever. Apparently we don't feel the same about these pastries. Next Sunday I intend to be more forceful about my need for sugar covered bread. He's already been warned.

On the other hand, he did change the tubes in both tires on my bike. He said the rear tube was basically glued to the tire and that's probably why I kept losing air in it. It was too old to work anymore. He also washed my bike. I would have been happy with just the new tires, but he seems to feel that a clean bike rolls better. Or something like that. Who knows. Periodically he disappears downstairs with a bucket, a sponge and a toothbrush (!) and comes back up shaking his head and tells me every time "It's clean again." Like I get it dirty on purpose. Like he would never get it that dirty.

Just like it's impossible to ride through rain without getting wet, it's impossible to ride on a gravel road without getting dusty and dirty. I do my best to avoid puddles (when it actually rains, that is) and ride slower through loose gravel (OK, that's probably not true). I'm just not a maintenance kind of girl. I don't worry so much about keeping the gears super clean and greased because to be honest I tend to use just one gear and use about 3 other gears only in extreme emergencies. The other 20 are just for show. Unless there's a hill, of course. Then I fumble around a lot and still end up using the same 4 gears and only changing the front gear.

I probably shouldn't be allowed to own anything that requires regular maintenance, because I just don't do that. I'm lucky that the universe has given me someone who understands the value of maintenance and actually knows how to do it. Oh, and who does it for me cheerfully.

It sounds like I'm taking advantage of his good nature, but actually we've struck a deal. He maintains the bikes and in return I do things he can't. Like hem his pants and fix clothes. The last pair of pants he bought (before me) he pinned to the correct length with super-sized safety pins. I also provide another valuable service. I remember things. I remember dates, I remember where he put things, I remember things he never thought he'd have to remember but suddenly realizes he should have.

Come to think of it,  he may actually have the better end of the deal here. He only has to maintain my bike every couple of weeks. I have to remember stuff every day. On the other hand, reopening negotiations could open a can of worms best left closed.