In all my bike rides, I’ve never had a flat tire, but I had so many in my first car (a ’73 Opal Manta) that I got so I could change a flat in 8 minutes. So this post isn’t about literal flat tires. Today at least. I’m talking about those proverbial flat tires we all get along the way.
Here we are, traveling about life’s journey, hopefully enjoying a lovely view and then it happens. Something punctures our tire and there we sit. Unable to move forward.
Today I give thanks to the many folks who’ve come to my aid, patching my flats.