One bike. One lamb. No problem.

We had another lamb roast. The butcher, an older man whose parents are also from Northern Epirus, assured me that though he has sold many lambs, he has never had one carried away on a bike.

A 70-pound lamb seems like a lot when you’re buying a lamb. But in truth, it’s not hard to carry on a bike. But then I’ve never carried anything on my bike that I thought was difficult to carry.

[Well, there was that one time I was zipping along in Amsterdam carrying something large in my right hand. A fan, I think. Or a large box. Somehow (during the day… sober), my bike decided that it wanted to veer right. I couldn’t stop it. My parcel somehow prevented any evasive maneuver. I ran pretty hard right off the bike path and into a sign post. I was going fast, too. Somehow, best I remember, I didn’t hurt myself, my bike, or my special delivery.]

Anyway, the lamb was pretty much evenly divided into four bags. One bag in each basket. One on top. One in my messenger back. Vegetables in hand. I think those are the legs sticking out of the bag. Carrying two lambs might be a challenge. As would carrying one whole lamb. Though one whole lamb on a bike would make such a nice sight. I always have this strange image of a lamb falling off my bike and a small riot starting as hoards of Astorians scamper into the street to claim the pieces.

I also got some tireflys for my bike. Little blinky lights that you screw onto your tire valve that light up when your wheel is in motion. Except that one of them seems to need more motion than just the turning of a wheel to stay on. But if they worked right, they seem like a great way to be more visible. You can see them if you zoom on the picture. The nice part is there’s no on-off switch to worry about. But that’s also a downside as they’re on even when you don’t need them. The three watch batteries are supposed to last up to 200 hours (“in ideal conditions”).

I don’t know if this bike has been pictured in this blog before. This is my normal cruise-around-the-neighborhood steed. She’s a heavy one-speed with a coaster brake. But she handles herself very well in Manhattan traffic when needed. Many years ago (1996?) I found her abandoned in Inman Square. I fixed her up with a new fork, a front brake, fenders and rear racks, narrower tires, and a paint job. It’s been a great bike. Rides very well and doesn’t complains that it’s not allowed in the house. I like how it looks junky but the astute bike-loving eye can spot a few signs of its inner potential.