Happy 2010

I announced my resolutions in my class this morning and asked others for similar sharing. No one would share.
1. Quit smoking.
2. Stop drinking Coca Cola classic and Red Bull.
3. Significantly reduce my red-meat intake.
4. Ride at least 300 miles on my bike.
5. Finally install crown molding.
6. Travel outside the country.


(I'm taking applications)


('tis true)

I'm ridiculously behind on blogging, and I have no excuse, save the usual ones. Also, too, it's quite cold outside. Too cold to do anything but talk about how cold it is and w[h]ine a little.

What are your resolutions?

Let there be light

HAPPY SOLSTICE EVERYONE!

It came, and I didn't offer up any sacrifices, even. Well, that's not exactly true. I've been told to cut out gluten and [many] grains. No fun at all, what with all the Christmas cookies around!

From here out(starting tomorrow), the days will get just a smidge longer. And life will be just a smidge better.

Hurray!

Why my floor is always a mess

Mia eating from H M R on Vimeo.

Baby it's cold outside

Brrrr! I know some of you don't believe it gets cold in California, but holy bejeezus! This week was, as Harris K. Telemacher aptly put, "a real weenie shrinker."
With some sort of obstinate "dedication" and perhaps a little bravada, I've been riding to work as long as it doesn't rain.
Here are examples of my commutes:
Tuesday:
Temp when I got the gym at 6a.m.: 25 degrees
Temp when I got on my bike to go to work: 24 degrees.

Wednesday:
Temp at gym, 6a.m.: 27 degrees
Temp when biking to work: 25 degrees.

This morning I had some sort of neural ailment that prevented me from thinking clearly and I my layers were all together wrong. I did remember my little beanie to keep whatever remaining heat I had from escaping through my helmet vents, however. I need summer and I need it now. I'd settle for spring.
I don't care what state you're in, unless you're an Eskimo used to living in an Igloo, it's cold. And the Eskimos dress in fur, I believe, and are not out riding their bikes. Yes, I know it's colder in other places. But that does not mean that 24 degrees is warm.

Okay, anyway.

I'm counting down to the solstice (10 days!) and then at least the days will start getting longer, if not warmer. I can see why cultures in days of Yore had huge festivals to importune the gods to bring the sun back and stop the punishment of lack of light. Dancing, food, drink, sacrifices. The whole shebang. All I can say is: lock up your small animals. There's no telling what might end up on the alter.

I haven't yet set up my trainer so I can keep riding, but inside. Seems it's time. I think my motivation is stuck and stagnant. I want to sleep, eat, and drink. And that is all.

November Round Up

November just WHOOSHED by. It was a month ago that I was riding the Giro D Vino. Geez. I little bike ride, a half marathon, a stupid cold that knocked me on my arse, some good dinners and get-togethers with friends, and wham-o, a month goes by.
This morning, I was riding to work in the thick, thick fog, it was 33 degrees outside (yes, that's Fahrenheit -- it does, in fact, get cold in California), and I kept reminding myself that time passes so quickly, I'll be peeling layers and sweating before I know it. In the meantime, I need to find some warm gloves to bike in. I've been a little lazy about pulling out the winter clothes (or maybe that's called "denial").

I'm counting down the days to the Solstice when the days start getting longer. I can relate to the people in the days of yore who had big festivals and offerings to the gods in order that the sun might come back. Lock up your pets -- who knows what I might offer as a sacrifice in sun-deprived desperation.

So -- a glimpse at what happened in November.

Ron and Jen had a birthday, so a selection of the West Sac gang (not to be confused with the Broderick Boys) took a little trip to Streets of London for dinner and drinks and pumpkin muffins with a cream cheese frosting. Mmmm.

Ron and Christine -- how cute are they? They just celebrated their 10th Anniversary, and despite any disturbing dreams I might have had about Christine's philandering, they are gunning for another 10. Happy Birthday Ron!

Jen's bday is the day after Thanksgiving this year. Nice to have a little vacation time for your birthday. I would think. Here's me and Vanessa and Jen.
The lot of us. This was kind of cute. Jen set up her timer, but then some woman was walking by and decided the set-up wasn't quite right, so she decided to take the picture herself. Truth be told, her effort was a little more centered.
Ron and Jen blowing out their candles.
Okay, you got me, this is totally posed, and we didn't get the actual blowing out, so we made them sit there with puffed cheeks until someone took a picture. You can see how Ron is trying not to smile.

Fun times!

Oh, and look at this! I found tucked away in my camera files a photo of the acorn squash soup (so yummy!) with some pomegranates sprinkled on top.


How I spent my Thanksgiving weekend:
We had a little party for Jen on the day after Thanksgiving (she had a lot of partying this month), and I told her I would make any kind of cake she wanted. She said, "I like pink cake with white frosting." Mmmhmm. So -- pink and white it was.
Awwww.

Quite pink -- pureed Strawberries makes it pink.
Not posed. An actual candle-blow-out.
More fun times, and great to meet some of Jen's friends of whom she speaks highly and often.

Earlier in the month, Jana said she had to pick up a wine shipment, so off we went for some wine tasting at Bogle and the Sugar Mill. Last time we went, we asked Todd Taylor (wine maker at . . . Todd Taylor!) to take picture with us. This time, we just asked him to take the picture.
Cute shot down the bar with a ghosty Jen.
All smiles.
Vanessa took copious notes after each taste. I hope those notes serve her well at some point. Like maybe she'll be at a party sometime, and someone will say, "what do you think of the Muscato from Bogle?" And she will whip out her notes from her bag (that also has a pencil case in it) and proclaim, "Well, I'm glad you asked. I found that wine to be not too sweet, a little nutty, and just the right price!" [$6, in case you were wondering]
Glittery Jana. Jana actually glittered all day with her lotion or perfume or eye make-up or whatever makes girls glitter, though she tried to convince us it was her sparkley personality incarnate. She did drive all day though, so if she says her personality makes her sparkle, then darn it, her personality makes her sparkle.
All of us at Bogle -- the first stop, and still under control.
Well aren't we glad that Jana said, "No, no -- clink them this way!" Fabulous shot!
November is going to be hard to top, but I'll give it a go.

Cooking like the Irish

Last weekend I was sort of laying low and not wanting to expend too much energy, so I decided to do a little cooking. It's a great activity for when I need frequent rests: work on this or that, put it in the oven, rest until the timer goes off.

I started off with gnocchi. Have you ever made gnocchi? It's kind of tricky. But my pal at 101cookbooks.com has a recipe re "How to Make Gnocchi like an Italian Grandmother." So I gave it a shot. It's basically potato, egg, and flour. How hard is that?

So I boiled potatoes, mashed them as she directed, drizzled the egg over it, and started folding in the flour. You know what you get when you add liquid to flour and potatoes? You get paste. Starchy paste.


I was not deterred. I took my paste, er: dough, and made it into strips the width of my thumb as she suggested. Then I cut them into inch-long segments.
Did this weird 'push the piece into a fork' thing. Why can't I just push the fork into the dough? Nevertheless, I got this far. Then what do you do? You take your gnocchi segments and drop them 20 at a time into boiling, salted water.
You know what you get when you take little chunks of dough made from potato, liquid, and flour? You get boiled paste is what.
My heritage is heavy on the Irish, easy on the Italian. I'm all about the potato, that is. Next time, I think I'll just boil it and smother it with butter and chives as god intended.

Fresh off that failure, I moved on to roasted veggies. This was a symphony for the eyes and nose. Brussels Sprouts, beets, onion, sweet potato, butternut squash, thyme, rosemary, a little salt, tossed in olive oil and popped in the oven.
Here it is after the chopping:
And while cooking:
And just out of the oven. Mmmmm.

Then I had an acorn squash that I had started cooking so that I could peel it and add it to the roasted veggies, but I left it in too long, so I just pulled it out, let it cool, and peeled it right up. Sauteed some fresh grated ginger and chopped up apples with a touch of olive oil, dumped in the roasted/chopped squash, added a splash of orange juice, and simmered it for a while. Then tossed the whole mess into the blender. Voila! Acorn squash soup with hints of ginger, apple, and orange. The orange juice really added a nice kick. [I had a lot of orange juice on hand as it's my convalescing drink of choice when I tire of the hot tea. Plenty of Vitamin C!]

No photos -- it just looks like baby food.

After that -- a huge pot of split pea soup. Onion, garlic, carrots, bay leaf, water with bouillon, and the dried peas. I like this soup because 1) it reminds me of home and 2) it sort of makes itself. Heidi over at 101 cookbooks suggests pureeing half of it, but I like it sans blender. I also like it because I can freeze it in smallish containers and use them for lunch.

Also no photos. No reason.

So I made pumpkin cookies and pumpkin muffins, frosted with a cream cheese frosting for a little bday get together on Sat. night.
Then I made these yummy ginger snaps that stay soft and moist -- not snappy at all.
Blurry dough.
Mmmm. Rolled in sugar and baked and a whole lotta fall goodness.
There might have been other stuff here and there. Oh! I seeded two pomegranates and sprinkled a few of the seeds on the acorn squash soup. That's not really cooking, but it takes a lot of effort, so I thought I'd throw it in there.

Buon Appetito!

Halloween continued

I know you're all moving on to pilgrims and turkeys and stuffing (oh my!), but here's a little throw-back to the Halloween class we had.

Comfort took these photos with her ipod (or someone took them, anyway). Pretty fancy for a phone! Although, it was so fancy, that we had to wait for her daughter to email them to me because she could not do it herself.
Comfort and me:
Karen and Yuri (of the reluctant-costumers society), Crystal and Comfort.

Crystal and Comfort
With me.
Not sure what's going on here, but it's kind of cute, and I love Comfort!
And now on to more holidays!

Tales of a reluctant half-marathon runner

Last week (has it only been a week?), I ran the Clarksburg Country Run. You might recall that the night before the run, I started getting a cold, which meant wheezy breathing and tough running. And I was still trying to figure out whether my back was going to hold up for 13 miles (hint: it didn't).

So -- what do you do but go and there and just do what you can do? There's not much else to be done. It was an interesting day -- I decided not to bring my camera, and I missed out on some fun photos. Like when a dog ran from a yard and started run with us -- for several miles.

Starting off in the a.m. Chilly start, but this was the latest start-time I've seen -- after 9 a.m.

And ending up. Got a medal. Got a shirt. Got a smile.
But this is more accurate.
The fun thing about running long distances (beside pretending I'm a runner when really I'm not. Which just makes me an actor, not a runner, which is probably more my style. It's like artful lying), is getting medals, and finding a little corner in my house to display them without really displaying them. Mine hang on a picture frame of family photos.
After that run, I more or less was laid out for a week and I want nothing more than to just have a good workout, minus the wheezy, sneezy pain.

NorCal AIDS Challenge 2009 -- looking back

Adding it up

Cost to sign up for run: $45.
Cost to see new Chiropractor with hopes of a miracle cure for my back so I can run: ~$120
Cost to buy shoe inserts at the advice of new Chiro: $40.
Developing some horribly hurty throat like swallowing glass, achy body, no sleep, aggravated asthma, and stuffy head within 16 hours of going out to run: priceless.

C is for Cookie

Happy 40th Anniversary, Sesame Street! Yesterday, NPR had a great story on Sesame Street, its creators, and its history. I learned that the Rubber Ducky song hit the Top 40 (#13 I think) and that Oscar was created because the educators who consulted in production/creation opined that kids need to know that it's not necessary to be happy and feel like skipping along all the time.

There was a long period of my childhood where we could only watch PBS with rare exceptions that included, por ejemplo, the annual showing of Sound of Music or the weekly Little House on the Prairie (for some reason, my night to do dishes often landed on Sunday night Little House night and every so often, my dad would take pity on me and help get them done so I didn't miss Carrie tumbling down the hill, or other exciting adventures). This means, lots of Mister Rogers and Sesame Street, and Electric Company for my sisters -- I never really liked that show. Lots of sunny days and chasing the clouds away. Lots of Big Bird and Mr. Hooper (do people still remember Mr. Hooper?). Lots of imitating Grover in the living room. (Okay -- that last one was just last week. The guy's a genius, what can I say?) I'm pretty happy there's public television and particularly Sesame Street (and Masterpiece Theatre, but that's another story). I was even happier to hear that my nephew's favorite letter is T -- because of this:



I'll have to sing to him about Hs the next time I'm there.

So about those cookies. They're not just for Cookie Monster. Yesterday, I made these fabulous little carrot/ginger/oatmeal cookies from the fabulous 101cookbooks site as I was searching around for something yummy but relatively healthy (ha!) to make for some workout friends (can't very well bring donuts, methinks). I considered fudging on the ingredients, but why not just splurge and get some incredibly yummy and fragrant coconut oil. I'm sure it will come in handy (one commentator on the website said that the oil is a good skin conditioner. I'm not sure if I should store it in the bathroom or the kitchen).

You can make them too. Or just come over and eat them. Heidi (of the 101cookbooks site) is also a photographer, so if you check out the cookies, you can see how yummy they look. Here's my

[Once again, my camera chose to focus on the background, rather than the foreground.]

I have a little run tomorrow. I'm praying for a healthy back and nice weather. I have more confidence in one than the other. Can't decide whether I should have fun and bring my camera and relax a little. Hmmm.

Did you know there are some holidays coming up? Hurray for variety. Next Wednesday is Veterans Day, and I'm going to watch more of this. Can you imagine? Sigh. . .

Drink n' ride; Ride n' drink

The thing about Northern California is that it's November, and we still have organized rides going on. And it was 78 the afternoon of this ride. There might be a thing or two more about Northern California, but I sure was digging watching the sun come up on my drive to Lodi, CA for the Giro D' Vino ride. This ride is a strange beast. There are two lengths: 100k and 50k. Along the route, there are about 4 stops at wineries where riders can taste for free by flashing their fancy pink rideclet (that's my made-up word for the dumb bracelet you get at the rides). Turns out, tasting is more or less free in Lodi, so it was a false draw.

Good morning little smart car!


Well, look what we have here. The bathrooms! Better line up, 60 miles is a long way.
Woodbridge/Mondavi winery -- a cute little ornate something-or-other. I didn't have a ride buddy, so I just headed out on my own around 8:15. This made for an interesting ride. A lot of folks just hung around for a while and the official start was something like 'not later than 9 a.m.' I haven't spent a lot of time at the front of the pack in these rides -- you can imagine who's up there. I'll just tell you: it's the fast people. Lots of men and a few women. I was pretty happy with my speed for the first 50 miles or so, and had fun chasing down some packs of riders, drafting off them, and then hanging back a bit.
Then came the winery stops -- so basically, you ride really hard for 10-15 miles, and then stop at a winery. OR, you don't stop, keep riding, and go chase down other people, all the while comfortably singing out loud because there's no one around.

Except this guy.
This guy rode behind me for lots of miles. He'd speed up, sit about 20 feet behind my wheel, and then drop back. I didn't see him at lunch, but saw him at the last rest stop where he told me to prepare for a big hill. I told him I'd been preparing all my life, baby. No, I didn't really say that. Here he is passing me around mile 55. Why did he pass me? I'll tell you later.

Starting off, with a lovely view of the vino bushes. And some electrical wires, apparently. If I weren't so lazy, I'd edit my photos. Quite a lovely day though.
Meanwhile, at the head of the pack. . . there's no obvious way to get to the first rest stop, so I didn't stop there, kept going. Met a really nice guy who also wasn't on board with the wine & bike combo who had fabulous tattoos and a gigantic iPod (I just have a teeny tiny shuffle).
A couple of guys on fixed gears. I hung out with them a bit when I got to the rest stop. I had to sit a couple of chairs away to make room for their egos.
One of the winery stops. Not a great picture, but there's flags. And a sign or two. I passed by this flag/wine stop; lord knows I'm no stranger to ignoring flags. Especially red ones.
This guy got dropped by his buddy. He made a great show of passing me, but then slowed down so he could eat his almonds. I wasn't sure how big of a breach of etiquette it would be to pass him right back as he looks all sponsored and whatnot. But then, when I was about to run out of water and was ready for some grub, I saw the lunch stop, so I figured I'd just follow him in.
Can you see this? I'll just tell you what it is: a nearly useless lunch spread. I did one ride where the food was amazing, but I can't remember which ride? The rained-out Santa Rosa ride maybe (and NCAC of course -- you should have seen the vegetarian/vegan/gluten free spread!). Anyway. What you see here is lunch after 30 miles of no rest stops. Lots of water (not pictured), great. Apples and bananas, great. And lots and lots of sandwiches. ("I believe that all anyone really wants in this life is to sit in peace and eat a sandwich.") Turkey and Ham and Peanut Butter sandwiches. It was like riding in the Butte, land of mayonnaise and processed cheese.
Then I sat and listened to people talk about how fast they were riding, ask everyone around them how fast they were riding, and chat with the guys on fixies about how they over-rode the route because they missed a turn, and they kept saying they'd "already gone 35 miles" and it was going to be such a long day, etc etc. Now again, I really wanted to interject, but there's something about the male ego that just makes me quietly judge, rather than vocally correct. The rest of us had gone about 31 miles, so their boast/complaint about adding miles rang a little hollow in my already-suffering-from-low-blood-sugar-ears.
Oh, and one of these guys said a couple of times how did didn't need to carry water with him and his body "really stores carbs." No water + "really storing carbs" = looking faint after 35 miles, I guess. After that he said, "That's whats so good about me."

Yeah.

So I ate about 8 apple slices and set off again for the back half -- the hilly half, I'd heard.

This photo I took immediately after a car had passed. Why the heck this rider is in the middle of a road that is not blocked off to traffic, I do not know.

Oh, so I said I'd tell you why that American flag guy was passing me toward the end after he'd been trailing me all day. It's onaccounta my bad genes. My back completely gave out around 50 miles and the last 14 miles or so were a combination of cursing and counting off every tenth of a mile. Apparently either my bike fit is off or the running is ruining my back, because cycling doesn't typically hurt so much. Rather, doesn't typically hurt SO much. That's what I meant.
Stupid running. Stupid back.

Couldn't decide what picture to upload. Typical post-ride self-portrait.
Or the big thumbs up.
I think if I keep working out, I could build up my ego so big that when I flex it, I could knock those boys off their bikes.

Happy November, y'all.