Changes Minor, Maybe Major

Charlie and Jim going on a bike ride, while my parents take yet another photo
It was in the 70s (Fahrenheit—-have been working on converting temperatures in Celsius to Fahrenheit in my head) and sunny Sunday morning. Charlie slept in a little (till 9am; he'd stayed up past 11pm on Saturday), wanted a morning ride (this proved a fine excuse to get a bag of bagels), stood around in the front yard grinning and eating. Jim got the bikes out from the shed and Charlie got his helmet (and gloves, which we worked really hard to get him to wear while biking this winter; he's still adjusting to the season changing). My parents had to come out for their "Kodak" (i.e., iPhone) moment (I did, too, as I took the above photo). 

Jim's and Charlie's rides have not been taking as long though they're going the same distance. First, Charlie is strong and powerful on his black bike and goes reallyreally fast. Second, while he'd been in the habit of getting of his bike at certain spots in the road and doing whatever stomping or twirling his sense of order required him to execute, he has not been doing this on his most recent rides. Not quite sure why (have been wondering if the past weekend's monsoon rains had some kind of effect), but a bike ride without "spin moves" (Jim's phrasing) certainly goes by more quickly.

The rest of Sunday was nothing special. Rides and walks and (for Charlie) regular checkings of the refrigerator which my mom has kept pleasingly filled (a tough act for me to follow; will have to manage). While Charlie had come to automatically associate car rides with getting "something to eat," after Browniegate and, too, Dinergate (Charlie having trouble eating in restaurants), we've been studiously having him eat at home, and he's been ok with this. (I indeed wonder if Charlie is secretly relieved not to have to subject himself to some of the social aspects of ordering and responding to the waitress—though diner waitresses have also been most kindly to Charlie, a perpetual "burger 'n' fries" customer.) 

Charlie did call out insistently for "orange rice, orange rice" on a later afternoon ride with my dad and me; we affirmed his request and I said I'd try to make Charlie some at home. "No home" said Charlie  and we said "ok" and I kept driving. Once on our street, Charlie said "no stay in car"—meaning that, he hopped right out once I'd pulled into the driveway and soon devoured a pack of sushi and some cheung fun

Little (not so little?) but significant changes, in the week I was gone. Good for all of us to get out of the order, the rut in the mud, we tend to get stuck in and try something new.

On the constant need for adequately trained staff to assist Charlie and individuals with disabilities, see this post at

On a St. Patrick's Day parade Jim marched in, is this post On the Irish Waterfront.


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