What a day.

I rode my bike to church today. And took the long route, so I could do one of my favorite things in the whole world: ride a bike at the beach. Riding a bike isn't even close to being in my top ten or even top twenty favorite activities, but riding a bike at the beach shoots up to the top five. The way there was pretty smooth. Riding on busy streets terrifies me, but thankfully I figured out a way that only involved a little patch of Sepulveda Blvd. Once I got to the beachside bike path it was just glorious. (I took a few pictures, but my camera cord has gone missing. Hmm.) The ride home was much more strenuous, what with more heat and the fact that I was driving away from sea level. I had to walk up part of Knob Hill, and at one point was pretty sure I was going to have to call for a pick-up or lie down in the gutter and take a nap. But I made it. I am hurting, and will surely be more sore tomorrow. I'm still betting it was worth it.

In between the ride there and the ride back, I did the usual church office stuff: returned calls... planned worship services... wrote notes... participated in the great de-lizarding of SBCC. If you count screaming and giggling and screaming some more while Charise did all the work "participating." I had picked up a bunch of Starbucks rolls to be dropped off at the soup kitchen, and discovered an ugly, tail-less, skinny, slithery lizard hiding beneath the bags full of scones. At first I thought it was a snake, and was relieved to find out it was a lizard. (I can only imagine how hysterical I would have been if it hadn't possessed legs). Even though my shrieking got Charise shrieking, she boxed up and removed that lizard like nobody's business. The only two hiccups in the process were when the lizard appeared to hex her and when I was shaking so much I couldn't properly unlock the door. I can handle such critters in the wild, but not when they are in an office full of nooks and crannies inviting them to go into hiding. If we hadn't managed to capture and free the lizard in the church garden, I would never be able to sit still again. I do not even want to think about what else might have made it into hiding.

My sisters and I have a sound we make when we are creeped out. No one has figured out quite how to spell it, but it goes something like this: bluawhawhawha.

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