Where in the World Monday

Where in the world would I rather be today?

Ooops.

In comments, Adam asked:

Where in the world are you? It’s Wednesday already!

I was camping.

Update soon.

More About Reading and Books

Via chaos theory , chairs for book lovers:

I love the idea of it. But it doesn’t look very comfortable, does it?

And would you feel compelled to arrange the books by color, and choose books that would look cool/impressive/attractive?

Still. Tres very cool.

Books have been on my mind. We’re planning a big camping trip and, per my usual insanity, I’m suddenly seeing books I’d like to take with me to reread. Images of me in a hammock, swinging between ponderosa pines, nose stuck in my favorite hardcover copy of this book or that book or even the book I hauled all over England and Wales even though it weighed a gazillion pounds. Only problem is, these fantasies always involve hardcovers. Why? I have no idea.

So anyway, here I am looking at various hardcover books and thinking about taking a small (well, comparatively small, okay?) box of books with me on a camping trip where I’m weighing the benefits of taking clean undies for every single day or washing them out at night and letting them air dry, because you know, I’m all about packing light. Ahem.

And then Ms. M-mv linked to best books you’ve never read. Some of which sound very interesting. This is how I discovered Elmore Leonard and Thomas Harris and Terry McMillan, all before they hit any best seller lists, by asking visiting editors and agents from NYC, “What is everybody reading and talking about that I won’t have heard of?”

Ms. M-mv also linked to these cheater sunglasses which look very super and I hope I love them, because the last pair I tried out sucked.

Now, where is that hammock?

Light it up.

So I’m looking at yet another catalog (at least I’ve found out where to recycle them) and instead of clothes, I see camp lights for Christmas trees.

This is our weekend to camp. We always camp on Thanksgiving weekend.

Except, well, this year we have the same complications that kept us from the Cowboys/Redskins Monday Night Opener and the Livestrong Challenge and, oh, other things that I just stopped planning, and this weekend, it’s our annual camping trip when I was doing to take a fabulous bike ride.

And we’re not there.

So those Christmas tree lights really yanked my chain. I thought, “Why don’t I get a little Christmas tree and only put camping stuff on it, wouldn’t that be cool?”

Not the fish, though. I mean, I think they’re really pretty but I don’t fish, and the idea of dead fish (no matter how pretty) hanging on the tree just doesn’t do anything for me. But the little red lanterns? Tres cool.

Which started me on a search for other camping stuff to hang on a tree which then got me sidetracked by all sorts of other fun/odd/downright bizarre Christmas tree lights.

Okay, pizza slices and fruits and wine glass and bottle lights could give you a pretty nifty start on a food-theme tree.

Feeling political? I’m not surprised, I guess, that you can find strings of hilary andcondi… well, I guess.

Okay, there are little green men and there are cows but clearly my knowledge of UFO lore is deficient because, aliens and cows on the same string? I don’t get that one.

If you’re feeling religious you can choose your pope and add some nuns or for a change of pace, try somehindu gods and goddesses.

As for my camping tree, I found some tree frogs.

Aren’t they cute?

So I’m not camping this weekend. I haven’t been on my bike in a month. I’m not getting much writing done, and I have commitments that keep going unfulfilled. But, I’m stealing away a few minutes from the other stuff that is always hanging over us to blog. Because so far, circumstances haven’t managed to stop me from watching the Cowboys play or eating Thanksgiving dinner or … blogging. I guess that’s a lot, all things considered.

I hope you had a wonderful day!

I did, even if occasionally I have bitch-slap myself into remembering that.

If attacked — fight back!

If you’re a woman who cycles or runs or hikes — if you love a woman who cycles or runs or hikes — I hope you’ll remember this tomorrow.

If you’re a woman.

If you love a woman.

I hope you remember this tomorrow.

When we were camping at Rocky Mountain National Park this summer, we had to take precautions against black bears. Possibly because of the drought conditions, bears have become a danger. This is our first trip (out of five or six) where it was an issue.

As I stood outside the latrine (not to be confused with the actual restroom with toilets and running water a bit farther up the road) waiting for someone to come out, I read the warning sign, which ended:

IF ATTACKED — FIGHT BACK!

Perhaps you recall hearing advice such as, “Play dead.”

In Bill Bryson’s fabulous A Walk in the Woods he explains that actually nobody knows what really works with bears. In fact, if a bear wants to eat you, chances are nothing works. But maybe the experts at Rocky Mountain National Park know more these days than was known when Bryson wrote his book.

But that’s not what was on my mind when I read that sign. When I read that sign, I thought:

“Like Jenny.”

I never knew Jenny. I’d never heard of Jenny, until someone on Team Estrogen posted that a woman cyclist was missing in Atlanta. Hours passed … her body was found. Worst fears were realized.

But as I read the reports and felt sorrow and rage for a woman I didn’t know, I also felt a surge of pride.

“Police say she fought her attackers every step of the way.”

The attacker, singular, it turns out.

And they caught him, because she fought back.

”(Michael Ledford) went to the Dallas Police Department around 3 p.m. on Tuesday, bleeding profusely from a wound in his genital area, according to investigators. Police say Ledford claimed he was negotiating with a prostitute for sex when she bit him on his genitals.”

Go, Jenny. Go, Jenny, go. I hope when you were fighting, biting, clawing, kicking — I hope you heard a chorus of voices giving you strength, roaring in your ears, your blood — the voices of strong women who went before you and will follow in your footsteps and fight like hell. I hope you felt a surge of power, of strength, of rage.

I hope you weren’t afraid. I hope you didn’t feel alone.

The story doesn’t quite end there. The women on Team Estrogen wanted to do something to honor Jennifer, to honor someone we didn’t know. We knew there would be a memorial ride. We thought about riding wherever we lived, in our own private rides. We thought about taking pictures of us, riding, and sending them to her family from all over the world.

And someone came up with the idea of t-shirts.

Her family was consulted to find out which charity would be appropriate for donations and for proceeds from the sale of t-shirts. Family members showed up on the boards at Team Estrogen. They were grateful, enthusiastic, helpful.

The t-shirt was designed, and the number of people who wanted them was overwhelming.

Susan Otcenas, who owns Team Estrogen, the best place on earth to buy women’s cycling gear, offered to take over. Her shop did all the shipping and paid all the postage and made a sizeable donation, as well. Last I heard, Jenny’s family had ordered 89 t-shirts to wear to Jenny’s memorial ride tomorrow. The bike clubs in Atlanta ordered t-shirts. And the women on Team Estrogen ordered them. They sold out.

I hope you see one tomorrow. Or several. But even if you don’t, wherever you are tomorrow — whether you’re riding, walking, hiking, running, shopping, driving, eating, playing — remember Jenny.

And remember what her t-shirt says.

A woman should never be afraid to ride alone.

Take back the trail.

Fight back.