My evening bookstore/coffee date with Sassafrass Teawrap did not disappoint. Thoughtful friend she is, she had a present for me! A Harley-Davidson [red] miniature motorcycle (and some Harley-Davidson stickers), a little book full of quotes about coffee, and some "pass-it-on" cards that have hopeful messages on them. You can stick them inside books as page markers, or you can tape them to the walls/mirrors at home or work... These were all wrapped in a new, red bandana.

Since we were at Borders and 'bina's parents gave me a giftcard for Valentine's day, I bought myself an exhaustive H-D motorcycle encyclopedia.

Before you get the wrong idea about me, let me state for the record, I am not a biker. I'm not even a poseur, in spite of how this post makes me look. No, I just happen to have, as one of the incongruent elements of my personality, a love for riding on them as a passenger. On the two occasions I've had the experience, I felt invigorated. Once when I was five our neighbor took me out. I remember the thrill of screaming, but having the wind usurp my air, so I couldn't even hear my own voice.

The second time was with Mr. Renaissance this past fall. Slightly different feeling than when I was five; I trust it is obvious why that was the case. And we were not on a Harley. He's a BMW man.

I guess in a way the motorcycle has become my emblem of things hoped for. Freedom. Risks. Adventure. And finally, Love.