I Want To Ride My Bicycle

For Christmas, my grandparents surprised me with a check. {They had donated to charity: water in my name, so I had not expected anything during the gift exchange.} 

In the sweetest grandparent way, they apologized that it wasn't much, but I was almost in tears because I knew exactly what this unexpected money would go to--and it wasn't going to be bills! {Eat it, Dave Ramsey!} 

I bought myself a bike!

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my fears. One of my greatest--and deepest--fears is the fear of breaking my neck. It was instilled in me from a young age that e v e r y t h i n g had the potential to cause a neck injury: sitting backward in a chair, climbing on the fountain at the mall, and definitely--without exception--riding a bike without a helmet.

I can't explain to you what it did to my insides when I thought about taking this bike out for a spin and not having a helmet. I really can't explain how it felt when I thought about having to call my dad and explain that I rode my bike without a helmet. "Oh, Danielle!" he would exclaim {He calls me by my middle name.}

But, you guys, here I am: conquering my ding dang fears. {Even though those fears are justified by some cold, hard facts, if you ask me.}

So, here's a picture of me from Monday afternoon. Preparing to ride my bike--sans helmet--through the streets. 

I mean, dudes: I even stood on my pedals a few times during this ride. I know, I know, I'm living on the edge.

A little bike help: spokey dokes or playing cards? A wicker basket or a wooden crate? I already have a bell, is it too much to have a bike horn, too?