It's a treat that I'm home today, because I thought I'd be on the road all week. Any extra day I get to spend in my own bed is a bonus.
If the power holds, I'll celebrate by baking some cookies for my poor wounded husband, who crashed his bike yesterday while we were riding around town. I was riding behind him (as always...) so I watched in horror as he careened down a hill and somersaulted into the dirt. I knew he was OK even before I reached the site of the accident, because he was laying in the road with his arms and legs up in the air like a dead bug, laughing and greeting all the Zambians riding past clucking "Solly, solly."
Luckily he was wearing his helmet (as always), was going relatively slowly, didn't hit any rocks with his body (just with his bike tire), and didn't get run over by any of the brake-less Zambians careening down the hill just behind us. Nothing broken, just a couple of grit-encrusted road rashes and shirt smeared orange with dirt.