You call this Dirt and Dogs?

Words and photos: Greg

I guess I'll go ahead and apologize to all of you who started coming to our blog because it had something to do with mountain biking. I will take full and complete responsibility for interrupting that line of photos and stories, even though the only thing I did to make it stop was to, er, go out mountain biking. And to subsequently suffer the consequences that occasionally swerve into an otherwise pleasant activity.

If you are here, once again, to view something pertaining to mountain biking, you may be disappointed. If, however you're here for Dirt and Dogs, you are in luck. There are a couple photos of biking on dirt. And there are some dog photos. So, hey, we're sticking to our theme, anyway.

But yes, I have been wearing a cast on my right arm since the middle of August, and I have been healing. The awkward over-the-elbow cast was traded for a forearm cast almost three weeks ago, and I've gone from doing everything with one arm to doing most things clumsily with two again. I've been riding the whole time, but now I'm hanging on and using the brake with both hands (sorta) again. And riding around town holding a leashed dog again, too. Progress.

Meanwhile, while Trina has been obsessing over spiders (and more spiders), I have not been sitting idly, but have been accumulating photos that didn't seem to fit any of our recent posts. So here they are.

Dirt, dogs, and a long-arm cast.


Dirt, no dogs, short-arm cast, and pushing up a steep hill to the safe flat part.


Evening ride with Trina (and dogs, on dirt) indulging me on a flat, boring trail.


Colorful garden-to-kitchen fare.


Aesthetics of junk.


Some colorful (or otherwise captivating) creatures I have met recently.








Dirt and dogs.


Dirt and vegetables.


Dirty wet dogs. And Trina.