Sweet Ride

While my wife was attending an Abate Motorcycle class this weekend I was at home attempting to write.  I say "attempt" because I did not get too much accomplished.  Not even the threat of deadlines and the enticement of cold, hard cash could compel me to eschew the sunshine in exchange for a dimly lit office.

But later this week my wife will be taking to the open road on the motorcycle I gave her at Christmas.  Me?  I'll be staying at home reviewing our insurance policies.

Being married to a motorcycle momma, though, has opened new avenues for writing.  I see several adventure stories brewing and can feel as essay or two floating around in the back of my head like loose washers.  I'm sure my wife will return from time to time with stories about potholes, beautiful sunsets, and other men with tattoos and flowing beards. 

Okay, but for now I will have to live vicariously through a wife who has now purchased leathers, helmet, and gloves . . . and who can't wait to get out there lookin' for adventure. 

I'll be at home writing motorcycle stories . . . where it's safe.  (And yes, that's exactly what her motorcycle looks like:  a Honda 250 Rebel.)