Life in the Dick, part 4

Seasons change (in most places), and the Dick is no exception. Raked up a shitload of leave sin the yard the other day, and as I was bagging them I grabbed a handful of dog shit. Sweet. Put in plastic bags that I bought, and then discovered that when you take your leaves to the dump, if you used plastic bags they make you dump them out and take home the plastic bags. If you buy the paper bags you just drop them off. Cute. I washed the dog shit off of my hands, but it was under a fingernail, so I had to trim my fingernails and take a shower to rid myself of the smell of dog dirt before I made myself a sandwich.

 

Got the CB350F all tuned up -- new points, plugs, valve adjust, timing. I need to change the oil and synchronize the carbs. I've put up with a tiny oil drip, and I thought it was either around the oil pump or the shift shaft, but it's apparently out of some weird plug that's on the backside of the clutch. Might have to take out the whole clutch to fix it? If so, bugger it, I can put up with it. Thing is fast and running like a top.

 

Found out from the nerdy cop who monitors parking when the Saturday farmer's market is going that my license plate is mounted incorrectly on my CB160. Turns out to be true. Gonna have to fab up a horizontal mount, likely put some semblance of a fender on the backside or something. Looking for 1969 and 1973 motorcycle plates for the bikes before I get them inspected and switched over to MA. Got 'em for my car and the SR250. Got to fix the crack in my windshield on the Valiant before it will pass inspection, and am having a devil of a time finding the proper lock strip. 

 

The previous post's photo was when I went out for a ride on the 160 and decided to capture some fall colors. Then I decided it'd be only fair shakes to do the same for the 350F. There is a pond in town, and so I headed there but detoured into this cool, old cemetery. Got a few snaps of the bike, then poked around. Some crazy old graves here. Best part: don't need to worry about getting dog shit under my fingernails since I don't have to rake up the leaves.

This grave can be seen in the photo of the bike, just above the headlight. I noticed it when taking the photo. If you can't zoom in, it's John W. Parker, a vet of the Civil War who died in 1908. Cool statue.

This one I noticed because of the book, and I thought that was cool, but she was born in 1786 and died in 1881 at the ripe age of 95 (or about two weeks shy). Crazy to think of the historical time period, just after Revolutionary War, through the War of 1812 and Civil War, the Industrial Revolution, westward expansion, decimation of the Native Americans, trains connecting East to West, invention of the bicycle, auto and motorcycle... my head is exploding.

Another Civil War vet, this time a lieutenant colonel, who died of appendicitis at the ripe old age of 20, one year afte rthe end of the Civil War. He was a lieutenant of the United States Colored Troops, and served in battle from the age of 17. He was also present for the surrender of Lee. At the end of the war he was shipped off to Austin, but died there.

And look at this big shot. Just read it.

Baked an apple pie with the last of the apples we picked at the orchard. Threw some blackberries in there and left out some butter, and good goddam that thing is edible. My secret for flaky pie dough crust involves vodka, that's all I am going to say. 

 

I went and investigated a local churrascaria -- Brazilian BBQ joint. There are a lot of Portuguese in the NE, especially in some pockets like Rhode Island and New Bedford, but there are also a lot of Brasileiros, too, and Framingham (one town over from the Dick) has a lot, and several churrascarias. Meg went with some friends from work, and I went to the same spot. I was stoked that my Portuguese held up the entire time, and the only English I spoke was the word "self-serve" -- asking in Portuguese how to say it. Grilled meats, rice and beans, fried banana and potato, chicken in sauce -- all to go, and weighed -- you pay according to weight. Leftovers made a killer lunch the next day. I will be back.

Learning the Massachusetts skate routine: get in the car, and if it is after 3 battle insane stop-an-go rush hour traffic to wherever you are going. Seriously crazy driving in the Valiant, from a dead stop to 65 to a dead stop again -- I locked up all four wheels and slid at one of these things because the idiot in the SUV in front of me slammed on his brakes super hard. Drove close to 2 hours to Newburyport to meet up with Jeff, Kevin and Eastie, and got there in time to skate for about half an hour, then drove home. The drive home only took an hour, as traffic had subsided. Park is fun, got its quirks, it was cold as shit, and it's at a school so I had to be on best behavior.

 

That's all from the Dick for this time. Remember: you're always welcome to come kick it in the Dick!