No, the Nighthawk is not a bird.  Okay, that’s a lie.  Technically the Nighthawk is a bird.  At least according to Wikipedia and Wikipedia is never ever wrong.

But it’s also a motorcycle.  But not just any motorcycle.  It’s the very first motorcycle I ever rode on!  The Husband has had LOTS of motorcycles in his lifetime (that would be a post all on its own) but this was the bike he bought in grad school after we met.  Previously he’d had only sports bikes so this was his first standard bike.  He bought it because it was cheap and less likely to be stolen in the “ghetto” which is where he claimed to live when we met.  For the record, it was NOT the ghetto.  Far from it.  But when you are from a small town and you move to the big city . . .

So here she is.

Nighthawk PM RW

Pretty, no?  Yes.  Also perhaps the worst bike decision Mike ever made because it spoiled me for other bikes and he was never able to buy the bike he actually wanted when we got married.  It may be hard to tell since I PicMonkeyed the heck out of these Throwback Thursday pictures, but the passenger seat is quite comfortable compared to most bikes.  It’s rather wide with a substantial backrest.  A backrest people, a backrest.  For many motorcyclists a backrest is a luxury.  For many others it’s an eyesore.  Even the Husband tends to think of them as eyesores.  But once you’ve ridden on the back of a motorcycle with a backrest, you’re not likely to ever go back.  And I never have.  EVER.

So he never bought the sports bike he really had his eye on and, for the most part, over the course of his next three bikes, the backrests just kept getting nicer.

Many women refuse to ever get on a motorcycle in the first place so I like to think a comfortable place for my posterior is the least I can expect in return for the thousands of miles I’ve ridden back there.

Another fun tidbit is that I have never ridden on the back of a motorcycle with anyone other than my husband.  I had the chance in college with a guy I dated briefly but he didn’t wear a helmet.  My theory is, if he didn’t respect his own life enough to wear a helmet he certainly wasn’t going to respect my life.  And I refused to ride with him.

Safety first people.  Safety first.

– Joanna

Question of the Day:  Do you have your motorcycle license?  Have you ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle?  

In trying to find a new dishwashin’ show on Netflix, I watched a few episodes of The Riches.  It’s basically a gypsy family who stumbles into the life of a recently deceased (they may have had something to do with that btw) rich lawyer and takes it over for their own.  This, inevitably, led to my desire to one day meet a gypsy.  From a distance, of course, because The Riches portrays gypsies as pickpockets so I’d like to stay a respectable distance away in case this stereotype happens to be true.

So I want to meet a real life gypsy.  I dropped this tidbit of information into my mental Bucket List and moved on to laundry.

But what would happen if I were to, say, simply forget I wanted to meet a gypsy?  The toddler is taking up more and more of my brain space these days so something’s gonna have to give in there eventually, right?

Upon further consideration, I decided the only practical solution to ensure I would actually meet a gypsy someday was to hop on the bandwagon and do the whole Bucket List for real.  Sans bucket that is.  A book is much more practical.

Midwestern Bucket List RW

I rifled around the house till I found this puppy, a travel journal that I carried with me on our motorcycle trips for a few years to record my genius.

Midwest Book 2 RW

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Let’s list the things we now know about me:

I mow the yard.

I am a sucker for poodles with bad hairdo’s.

I am the worst food blogger ever (ok, just that one time).

I am ungrateful (again, just that one time).

I’m a Foodie Pen Pal. Twice.

I like bunnies.

I like goats.

I don’t like kale.

I like to tease the in-laws (don’t make me link to this, there’s just too many).

I like Cake and Johhny Cash and Jim Croce.

Wow. That’s some deep stuff.

Did you know I like to read? As a kid I read alllll theeeee timeeeee. My favorite wasn’t Nancy Drew. It wasn’t The Hardy Boys.

It was The Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys Super Mysteries!!

I also kinda liked those choose your own adventure books. You know the ones. You have a few options on where you’d like the book to go next. In that same spirit, I’d like to present The Midwestern Bite Choose Your Own Adventure!!

 You get to pick what you want to see here on the ol’ blog next week:

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