Westmoreland Asays

As I pulled into the garage on the evening of Valentine's day, I saw a giant grill sitting in the garage--my early birthday present from Meg and her fam. I guess she gave up on my countless failures at using my charcoal grill. We put the boys to bed early (they were asleep by 7:15 p.m.) and watched The Princess Bride from the comfort of our living room couches. On Friday the 15th Meg was hosting a tri-ward adult dance for the three wards that meet at our building. The boys were still somewhat ill for a babysitter, so I had to stay home and take care of them. As you might guess, I'm not a fan of dancing (at least in front of other people in a formal setting--for the record, we were at Northern Lights Theatre Pub a few weeks ago with some friends, and at the end of the film, The Real Life of Dan, the stars were dancing at their wedding; Meg wished out loud how much she wanted to dance right now, so I pulled her up and started dancing in the aisle--much to her embarrassment); but

As I was walking to the vanpool pickup stop yesterday afternoon, I looked from a distance at the bike parking area underneath the building to see if my bike was still there. I keep a bike at the office for the occasional errand I run at lunch time (doctor's appointments, shopping for gifts for the family). I had just ridden it last week at lunch to pick up flowers and Moonstruck chocolates for Meg, so I remember where I had parked it last. But I didn't see it. The van had just arrived, so I couldn't stop and investigate further. So this morning when I arrived at the office, I took a closer look at the crime scene. Sure enough, my bike--and my lock--were gone. I thought this might happen someday, given the open and unsecured setting of the bike storage area. I'm almost glad that somebody stole it, because it is now their problem. It was truly a made-in-China-Department-store-heavy-piece-of-junk; the brake cables were giving out, and the gears had a tendency to slip, maki