Kabuki Kabs has a new owner and a new location, a few blocks away from the old barn on Herald Street. New ads are now running daily in the Times Colonist  luring a fresh crop of eager entrepreneurs to try their luck and stamina plying the streets of Victoria. Each time I am in the downtown core I see new faces behind the handle bars of the old familiar white tricycles.

I have had many people ask me this spring if I will go out again. Part of me wants that outdoor air and freedom but I don't think my left knee is up to it and I know it would take a huge commitment to get strong enough again to confidently pull the weight of tourist cargo around Victoria. My writing work life is too busy and interesting to put on hold.

And besides, I have a new obsession: Bikram Hot Yoga.  At first I thought it was the most barbaric and insane practice, more aptly named Bikram hot torture. Practioners exiting out of the sessions at the Fort Street franchise with beet-red faces and zoned-out walk reminded me of Alec Guiness staggering out after days in the hot box in Bridge on the River Kwai. I can hear the demented sinister voice of the POW camp leader intoning: " Be happy in your yoga."

But for some reason I can't explain ( a mascochistic streak? a hint of OCD?) I have become addicted to it. It makes my knee feel stronger and all my muscles and joints feel more resilient. I can't get over my huge gains in flexibility. I feel a perverse sense of self-righteousness after every session. And dam-it-all, one of these years I WILL lock out my knees and get my forehead to the floor.

I wish all the new cabbers luck. I plan to drop by the new barn and say hello. But I think it will take a miracle ( like an advance from a publisher for a book deal?) to get this writer back out on a cab this summer.