Bike pooling

Ahh summer. It is time for the boys to play outside, after being forced and threatened, and it's a time for me to ride my bike to work. I find it quite exhilarating to ditch a car for three months and have the freedom to pedal my way to the office.  I like to imagine myself as a classy dame in the 1940's as I ride my new version of an old classic bike in Tiffany blue.  The morning commute allows me to actually notice things that I may not have otherwise, like neighbors.  To get a verbal good morning and a tip of a hat from walkers on the sidewalk or an actual hello from a fellow bicycler is like riding through the set of Pleasantville.
I wouldn't dream of talking on my cell phone, or texting anyone, or listening to my iPod on my commute. It's just a seven-minute ride of tranquility.  I notice so much more, and I can tell you I think of nothing but riding my bike and avoiding cars.
Figuring out how to carry my coffee was a challenge.  But now I take a stainless steel thermos in my tote, which is in the baby seat, which I sometimes pretend isn't there... ( it does look kind of dorky). The temptation to drive through Starbucks doesn't exist, and I save on gas and coffee.
I have to admit, I'm spoiled because I have sidewalks the entire distance from my house to my office, which I use. I'm not going to dare ride on the street; I tried that once, and it was horrible. Cars got too close, and I had flashes of ambulances and news crews to report a 30-something female fell off her bike.
Unless I can figure out how to pile 4 kids on my bike, I will be saying au revoir to the bike-pooling, and in just a couple weeks I will be back to my tired old mini-van taking the boys to school and childcare.  Pulling up to pre-school next to the 40 other 2007-2010 model minivans in colors ranging from gold to beige.  Waiting in line at Starbucks to order a skinny latte right behind the mom on her cell phone ordering the same thing, all while listening to the Backyardigans soundtrack.
But for right now, just for my seven minutes, I will be that French dame riding past a vineyard with a fresh baguette I picked up from the baker down the cobblestone street with plans to meet her lover for a picnic overlooking a field of wildflowers.