I found a baby mouse on my lawn mower this week. It had fur but its eyes were still shut. I only noticed it after I had mowed the front lawn though, and then I stuck it in the grass. Hopefully a cat killed it quickly.
Monday,
About 12 km (7.5 mi) of biking. (I love Guelph's hills. My legs buurrrrn through them!)
One and a half hours of soccer practice with my former team
On the way to practice, there was a stretch where I was biking on the left side of the road, so I took to the sidewalk rather than bike directly at oncoming traffic. I came to an intersecting street, and as I was crossing, a driver coming from behind me turned into the street and cut me off. I noticed him in time and managed to slow down before we hit each other. But he didn't just cut me off: he slowed down in front of me, and, with a condescending sneer, said "Get on the road!" Very strange. Why would he slow down to say that?
But I was smiling about the situation, and realized that I haven't been getting upset when other people act pettily or angrily toward me. It almost has the opposite effect; I find it intriguing, which makes me think, which makes me happy. It feels like I'm an outside observer of these sad people, some sort of anthropologist taking notes on this quaint culture. Why are these people bothered by such minor offenses? Do these people put the same bitterness into all aspects of their life? Their work? Their family?
Today, about 13 km (8.1 mi) biking
One and a half hours of soccer practice with my current team
I saw a squirrel get run over by a pickup truck on the way home. A lot less squishing than I expected. First it wanted to cross, but a car scared it back to the curb. Then it saw me biking toward it, so it bounded for the other side. It kept going as the truck bore down on it. Would it make it safely? Would if be struck? I wasn't sure how things would turn out, but things turned out with a dead squirrel. And by now it is probably very flat.
Rodents have no luck around me.