Oh the glamour of it all.

When I tell people in the US that I ride my bike to work every day, they ask the inevitable question, "Even when it rains?" I say yes, even when it rains and launch into the detailed description of my giant poncho and matching rain pants that keep me dry on wet days. And the description ends with the following anecdote: "I arrive at the office dripping water off my rubber suit and think to myself, 'I used to be glamorous.' " And while true, I do say that every time, I am usually also smiling and feeling really tough at the same time. Maybe it isn't glamorous, but it is cool to ride through and shake your fist at the elements -- only not literally because all that rain makes for some slippery roads.

Back to the utilitarian garb. It was surprising to be stopped as I walked out of the office the other day sporting the poncho and bare legs (the beauty of humidity). A woman was on her bike, waiting for someone to come out of the building and called, "Lady!" after I passed her. I turned around (expecting to be told I had dropped something or asked if I could give her a euro), and she said, "That jacket is really cool. Where did you get it?" My jaw dropped so far that I could barely get out, "Hema."

I am accustomed to getting complements on my shoes, but never expected a complement on a poncho that is so big you could fit a pony underneath. Goes to show that you never know where goodness will come from.

And on another, less rubber, more natural, note, here is a photo of my back garden before I ripped it apart last week. I looked for gnomes when I was in there, but the wily creatures hid from me. I left the giant plant/weed alone so I could keep staring at the rad flowers it makes.