When:  Great day for a walk, 2/3/2018
Weather: Mid 50’s with sun
Observations/Thoughts

Unfortunately, this post did not occur on the day it transpired.  Both of my daughter’s involvement in a school play eliminated the time when this is usually written.  However, I may be up early enough to complete this while it is still yesterday somewhere.

• A Boy and the Creature:  As my walk began, I was coming up on the first bridge.  A couple of spectators found me looking for what they were observing.  In today’s case, it was my armadillo friend.  The person walking their dog ahead of me let the father and son know the armadillo is there nearly every morning. Not meaning to be outdone, I had to relate my own story about this creature image occupying many spots on my iPhone.  I let the father know some facts about armadillos in general and this one specifically.  I said, “He used to hunt grubs under the trees over there.  Not sure how many grubs he is going to find here.”  The dad held the family dog back as his 4-5-year-old son was amazed by a live armadillo.  “Roadkill” armadillos are not uncommon.  Seeing them alive and living their lives are not common.  As the “poor man’s pig” (Google said it was a legitimate nickname) lived his life, the dad couldn’t help but comment on how the little-armored mammal appeared to be nearly domesticated.  After seeing Armand so frequently, I couldn’t disagree.
• Gait Change: As I left the house, I said to my wife, “If I get one phone call, I am calling you.”  Why would I say such a thing?  I might again be braving the path where the homeowner threatened me with certain arrest.  I might again be braving a path of uncertain safety.  To increase my odds of returning home safely, I wore a different hat and coat.  It was a cooler day, so the rest of my attire would also have altered my appearance.  As I approached the “decision point”, it appeared the first orange webbed fence had been removed.  Somewhat hesitantly, I continued on.  When the second fence (it might also be called the “mid-point fence”) was absent, I thought all the thoughts I could think to minimize me being recognized.  Having read a few spy novels, I stumbled across the paraphrased thought, “Even if the appearance changed, often a person’s gait does not change.  It can give them away” Quickly, I chose a gait far different from my normal stride.  I didn’t stretch out my stride, I put a little pause between the left and right stride.  Being very comfortable with how I walk, it certainly felt altered.  I took sideways glances to the left as I passed the house of my personal paparazzi.  No movement was detected.  Once his driveway (the path and driveway were parallel.  They both ended on the road.) was gone, I resumed my normal stride.  As I walked a couple of miles before I again returned to the stretch of pathway I referred to as “nemesis road”, I experimented with some other strides.  The gait I chose for the return had a little “hitch” in it.  My left stride was followed by my right foot rising and pausing slightly before completing the stride.  This passage heard a few noises in the garage, but otherwise, it was also uneventful.  If I can’t get gaits out of my head in the coming days, I may need to have someone video me walking.  I would be interested to see if the temporary changes I made, in fact, were visible to anyone but me.  The visual appearance would be much more important than the perceived.
• Slalom:  I think I passed a fan of the Olympics today.  As I walked the “long” stretch of sidewalk that runs along the cow pasture and the fracking well, there was a bicyclist coming toward my quickly.  He seemed to be weaving back and forth as he came south in the center of the sidewalk.  Once he realized I was ahead and possibly seeing him, he reverted back to the “normal” spot along the left (my left) side of the sidewalk.  Once he did this, I noticed the dashed lines divided the two sides of the sidewalk.  When any spectators were absent, he was navigating his bike along the outside edge of each of the dotted lines.  It certainly would keep him looking down and oblivious to those further down the path. As with my stride, I am sure he hoped he was performing for an imaginary audience.