Incredible as it may seem, for the third time in three years my bike was stolen from the garage (and this time, Sonja's too). It was Christmas 2005 when I lost my beloved GT which got me though grad school in Atlanta and years in New Britain. I blogged about getting my replacement Breezer here, also a marvelous bike. But when it was stolen last spring I refused to get another good bike. So I got a Fuji Crosstown for $250 and now that's gone, too. Each time we upped security on the garage, first adding a good lock, and when that didn't work, screwing plywood over the windows and getting a better lock. Now I'm going to try not getting another bike. Try to steal that!
Actually, it is not funny. It is maddening and frustrating. Isaiah and I were out feeding the chickens when I discovered it this morning. Isaiah ran into the house and was so mad about it. He angrily said, 'We should move somewhere else where people can't keep stealing from us. Don't they know that is our garage?" His feeling of being violated is more raw than mine, but I feel it too.
Anon,
Chris
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