doing

It's quiet this morning at the coffeeshop. Just the way I like it. My concentration is much improved without the loud conversations around me, and I can actually read past the first sentence to the next and the next until I've read a page and then another page. I am on such a roll!

Where is everyone? Is there something going on that I don't know about? Did all the regulars get jobs? It's hard for me to imagine that they have something better to do—and I'm not just being snarky. I can see that the morning regulars at J&S Bean Factory have formed a community.

Perhaps the regulars are outside, enjoying the beautiful weather. It's all sunshine and clear skies here in Minnesota. And, not that I should complain prematurely—but I will—the heat and humidity are on their way.

So, what am I doing?

reading
It's summer, and I have been reading about as much fluff as I can stand. About 60 pages remain in my latest guilty pleasure. Petite Anglaise is a blogger's memoir. Author Catherine Sanderson is a British ex-pat in Paris. At the time she started her blog, Petite Anglaise, she was working as a secretary and living with her French boyfriend (Mr. Frog, predictably) and their baby (Tadpole, of course). Without giving too much away, she has an affair with a reader who has left a comment on her blog—and hi-jinks ensue. I'm enjoying this insider's look at blogging and the thrill of connecting with those who leave comments (not so much the affair, which is pretty uncool). And, I love Paris. Even the descriptions of unglamorous activities that are inherently Parisian, such as waiting for a train at a metro stop, have me jonesing for the City of Lights.

Admittedly, I am craving a little more substance so I will next turn my attention to Muriel Spark's Abbess of Crewe, described by the publisher as an "elegant fable about intrigue, corruption, and electronic surveillance." My friend Caryl and I have an informal Spark discussion, which has been on hiatus but, as we both miss our dose of Spark, is now being resumed.

eating
I'm not a big fan of strawberries so I don't buy them often. Simon, on the other hand, loves strawberries. For him, I will buy strawberries in the spring, when the big, juicy red one come in from California. He gravitates toward the largest containers at the grocery store and we argue about how its too large and that a pint will be plenty. "But, Mom, I really, really love strawberries. Please. I'll eat all of them. I promise." Yet, this year, he has hardly made a dent in his strawberry supply before the container is overrun by mold. I've got to say, I can't blame him for rejecting them. These berries, which are bright red and look ripe, are firm and nearly tasteless, bordering on tart.

So on Sunday when we spotted strawberries at the St. Paul Farmers Market, I let Simon pick out the biggest, fullest container the stand had. No argument. Simon took a small, hesitant bite from a berry, replete with cap and stem, gave me a glance and said between bites, "Now this is good." Even my eight-year-old can tell the difference between a strawberry that had been picked before its prime and shipped acrossed the country and a strawberry that had been picked the night before it was sold, spending, at best, twenty minutes to get to market. These local strawberries were so sweet and tasty and obviously sun-kissed.

And, also highly perishable. We enjoyed eating many out-of-hand, but most of the quart was pureed yesterday to become ice cream later today.

playing
John and I took the little boys to see the Star Wars exhibit at the Science Museum last weekend. We had a great time, mostly because the boys were excited to see seven-foot tall Wookies and lightsabers. We also saw Special Effects, a short film formatted for the IMAX theater that offered a short history and a few examples of movie special effects, such as how the Millenium Falcon flies. Simon, especially, is intrigued by the possibility of a career blowing things up in the name of movie magic. I'd support that, with the caveat that he would be the very best Hollywood pyromaniac pyrotechnical expert he could be. And, maybe I should be careful what I wish for.

riding
Last week, I took a 15-mile bike ride with my friend Bonnie. We rode at the same pace and could carry on a conversation, which made the time fly. Tonight we're going to get another ride in and hopefully make this a regular weekly ride. Also, since I'm feeling stronger on the bike, I opted in for a family ride this past weekend. I pulled Winston on a tagalong, while John towed Simon, and we used our bikes as our main form of transportation to get our destination: the State Fair, five miles from our house. Much of our ride was done on bike lanes. It was easy and fun. Our reward was a two hour walk around the fairgrounds, looking at vintage cars. John and I agreed that the MG we dream about restoring when the boys are grown could easily be replaced by a '50s Corvette.

WARNING: injured child post (w/photo)

WARNING: injured child post (with photos)

My baby (who is six years old) came home from his summer program yesterday with a hole in his head. The hole is small—as compared to the hole that was created in his skull when he was four months old to compensate for his craniosynostosis—but perceptible. John called from the car after picking the kids up to warn me. Winston was feeling small and didn’t want me to worry about his head. So I tried to be a cool customer, and I was—up to a point.

When they reached home, Winston bounded down the patio stairs as I waited at the door to usher him into the house. He greeted me with his jack-o-lantern grin. He seemed fine, if a little sheepish about showing me his injury, so I’m imagining it’s not that bad. Then, he turns around to show me the hole in his head and I see that the back of his white T-shirt is covered in blood. I dig tenderly through his blood-matted blonde hair to find the injury, and there it is. A hole, slowly seeping blood.


John and I made the joint, executive decision not to go to the ER or Urgent Care, where we would sit in the waiting room for hours, during which time, the bleeding would stop. Then, we’d see a doctor who would tell us the hole wasn’t deep enough to warrant stitches, but also that there wasn’t enough skin to stitch together. Been there, done that.

But, we needed to stop the bleeding. Among other reasons, he was leaving a trail of red plops throughout the house. John crafted a tourniquet by folding up a clean dishtowel and securing it to Win’s head with a bandana, and later he slept in his Team Jelly Belly stretchy cycling cap to keep the “bandage” in place.

I hate when the kids get injured like this. I do my best to administer care and comfort, but ultimately it's really hard for me to see them scared and vulnerable, with blood pouring out of their heads.

Apparently, our EMT efforts were a success. Even though the hole hasn’t quiet completely scabbed over, he went to soccer this morning. AND SCORED A GOAL! I wish I could have been there for that, but I was having some QT with Son #1 (sneaking a few chapters in my latest guilty pleasure while Simon watched cartoons). I want nothing more than to wash Winston’s rather grisly-looking hair before we attend the Star Wars exhibit at the Science Museum this afternoon…perhaps no one will notice. I hope.

some notes for my next bike ride

Restock my handlebar bag with the following:

~ new inner tube
I used the inner tube that was in my handlebar bag when I changed last week's flat.

~ lip stuff and sunscreen
The sun has become more intense over the past couple days, and I can feel its affects on my skin.

~ contact case with spare contacts, mirror, and contact wetting solution
I always wear protective lenses when I ride. In addition to keeping trail dust out of my eyes, my glasses also catch my contacts when they get dry and flip out of my eyes. It's finally time to add more eye-related supplies—wetting solution for when my eyes get dry, spare contacts and a mirror for when my contact hits the bike path or road, which has happened.

~ small notebook and pen
Crucial equipment for jotting down license numbers when rednecks drivers in cars harass you, such as yesterday. I was minding my own business IN A BIKE LANE, when I encountered a funeral procession. If I had been in a car, I would have pulled over until the procession passed, as the law requires. But I was on a bike, so I stopped, then crept slowly, respectfully along. The guy in the black SUV behind me? He kept driving along on River Road, at 35 mph, passing me. He pulled into the bike lane so he could give the funeral procession wider berth, then slammed on the brakes right in front of me. WTF???? I yelled, "Hey! Watch out!" as I swerved into the curb to avoid being hit by his truck. Dude yells back at me to get off the road, which I DO NOT TOLERATE. I reminded him loudly that I am in the bike lane. He screamed back, "Yeah, well what do I have?" Me: "You have a lane. Stay in it." To which I got a harassing revved engine and a "Fuck you bitch!" Adreneline pumping, I let it go. Here's the other thing he has: 2 tons of truck. Oh, and anger.

firsts

The summer is still young, but already it has been pretty rich with personal firsts.

~ collecting unemployment
~ serving as a team manager for a kids’ sports club
~ visited Las Vegas
~ cooked fish on the grill
~ had my first flat tire
~ changed my first tire—by myself
~ bombed down Kellogg Boulevard—a very big hill—on my bike
~ attended my first session with a therapist*

I can hardly wait to see what the rest of the summer brings...

*more on this later

wiki wednesday

It's time for Wiki Wednesday!

1. Go to wikipedia.
2. Click on "random article" on the left-hand sidebar.
3. Post it.

It's been a summer of firsts for me. So it should stand to reason that the "random article" function should deal me my first animal entry. Although this entry lacks references and sources and needs some cleaning up to satisfy wikipedia standards, it's very interesting. My boys would love this lizard. Read more about the gusteris.

Gusteris (Gustéris, Gustera*) is a rare amphibian lizard

This incredibly rare lizard species is living in the Western Macedonia, a part of northern Greece (Lefkopigi, Polyphitos Lake, Kozani, West Macedonia, Greece). It is believed that this strange creature is surviving in this specific place from prehistoric times. There are two different types of this creature, the one is a small horned lizard and the other one is reaching enormous sizes with the female being the cock of the walk (1-2 meters long). Both types are amphibian and they tend to live in marshy environments. They have strange procreation circle, they breed once in two years only if the conditions correspond to their needs. It's the only lizard species that doesn't hibernate and breeds in winter time (10-30 January). It lays its eggs (about 6-23) in soft waterlogged soil nearby marshes or lakes. Hatching time varies depending on weather conditions (ground moisture and temperature) but can be from 2-9 months. Gusteris lizards usually are omnivores feeding on vegetation, insects, smaller lizards and rats. Those living in lakes can enjoy hunting fish. They tend to be more carnivorous when young and tend to become more herbivorous as they age. They produce saliva; therefore they can eat while out or in the water. The lifespan of this rare lizard fluctuates approximately 25-30 years.

rite of passage

So, there I was today, minding my own business, on my bike ride, when I got a flat tire. Lots of people get flat tires so what’s the big deal?

I have had my fair share of bike things happen. Mostly accidents. There was the legendary wipe-out on the Munger Trail in 2005, yielding a spectacular road rash on the entire front of my right calf. Later that summer, while cycling around beautiful Lake Kampeska (coming from the east, nearing The Prop), I hit a dog off-leash that charged at me, resulting in a concussion when I crashed my bike and whacked my helmeted head on South Lake Drive.

My chain has slipped off the chain ring countless times. But I have never ever, in thirty-five years of bike riding, had a flat tire. Never. Ever. Not even on those crappy bikes I had in high school and college, which is to say, the bikes that were never maintained. Not even on two RAGBRAIs, each one five hundred miles in distance (seventy miles a day for seven days, times two). That’s what I’m saying: Never. Ever.

My handlebar bag has an inner tube, and typically (though, clearly, not today) I have a portable pump strapped on my bike’s frame. Mea culpa. I’ve got the gear but I don’t know how to use any of it. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a bit of a girly girl, and I HATE getting dirty, so it’s not surprising that I have never changed a flat. Though, you sort of have to have a flat to change one, and, remember, I’ve never had one.

Over a month ago, as I was still prone to procrastinate going on a ride, I dished out an excuse to John: I can’t go on a ride; I don’t have a tire-changing kit. As he held up my cell phone, he said—and I quote—“Here’s your tire-changing kit.” Naturally, I would get a flat during the middle of a workday. If I’d had a pump, I would have tried changing it. Even though I would have had no idea what I was doing. Really. Instead, I called John. At the office. And, he kindly retrieved me.

I was having such a really good ride, too. Feeling strong. Flying along. Listening to some good tunes.

Oh well, getting in half a ride is better than not riding at all.

I know what you’re thinking: Don’t ever go on a bike ride with that Jennifer-girl. Sheesh. I think it’s time to take the bike maintenance class. Finally.

wiki wednesday

It's time for Wiki Wednesday!

1. Go to wikipedia.
2. Click on "random article" on the left-hand sidebar.
3. Post it.

I got a pretty cool random article today. I would love to live in a town named after a number. If you scroll to the bottom of the wikipedia entry, you'll see that Eighty Eight, Kentucky, isn't the only town that follows suit.

Eighty Eight is an unincorporated town in Barren County, Kentucky, United States. The town's most recent claim to fame was the celebration of August 8, 1988 (08/08/88). People with an affinity for the number 8 descended upon the town from various parts of the nation, and the celebration was televised on national television.

tuesday i-pod shuffle

My bike ride today was an expansion on the River Road-Marshall/Lake loop, crossing the Mississippi at Franklin, adding fifteen minutes to the ride. Here are the tunes that powered perfect circles:

~ A Little Less Conversation (Elvis Presley)
~ The Song Remains the Same (Led Zepplin)
~ Fall Out [Live] (The Police)
~ Le Disko (Shiny Toy Guns)
~ Don't Stand So Close to Me [Live] (The Police)
~ Wrapped Around Your Finger [Live] (The Police)
~ Time to Pretend (MGMT)
~ So Lonely [Live] (The Police)

Mostly Police Live, with a sprinkling of other stuff.

weekend report

After overscheduling our long Memorial Day weekend, John and I made no plans for this past weekend. Sure, we did plenty, but with no obligations to anyone or anything. Well, okay, except for Winston’s Saturday morning soccer practice—which was, by the way, a blast. He is all over the ball in a way that thrills me to no end.

Saturday, May 31
Our one main house-related task was to put the screens on the dining room windows. Just three little windows, that’s all. Three little windows resolutely painted shut. I'm not at all embarassed to admit that in the nearly four years we've lived in this house, this is the first year we've attempted to open these windows. John had a bear of a time prying out the winter storm windows (ha! vindication!), but managed to remove two of the three. The wood frame on the third window wanted to break so we left it in place. We have been enjoying fresh air, cool breezes, and birdsong ever since.

Then, for fun, we took our inaugural family bike ride of the summer. Simon rode his tagalong behind me, and Winston rode with John. Riding my café cruiser, which has fat tires and eight speeds and isn’t meant to ride fast, is even tricksier with 75 extra pounds on the back. It is exactly like pedaling through molasses. Also, I get a little claustrophobic from the result not being equal to the effort put forth, i.e., I feel like I should be traveling a greater distance than what I’m managing. Still, we had a good time.

For even more fun, John and I took the boys to watch our soccer club’s U16 boys game at McMurray Field, near Como Park. It was a blast to see the older boys use their Brazilian-style foot skills and clobber their competition. We ran into Coach Rod and his boys, so hung out with them for a while. The plan was to stay for the semipro game that followed, but a huge thunder- and hailstorm moved over Como quickly and we retreated.

Upon arriving home, John and I poured ourselves tall G&Ts and “studied” while the boys had some quality time with the boobtube. This gave the storm just enough time to roll over. Then John fired up the grill as I made a spice rub—1 tablespoon brown sugar and 1 teaspoon each cumin, cayenne, paprika, and kosher salt—for the arctic char filet I picked up at Coastal Seafoods earlier in the day. Grilling fish was a first for us—well, mostly for John, who prepped the grill (oil), flipped the fish, and put out the flame flare-ups when the char’s fat rendered into the fire. The fish was phenomenal. The spice rub created a nice crust for the flesh side of the fish, and had a fantastic flavor (sweet, salty, spicy). We had sides of fresh corn and zucchini slow cooked together in butter and a barley-brown rice-toasted pecan pilaf, as well as a bottle of Mark West pinot noir.

Sunday, June 1
John rode his bicycle to the St. Paul Farmers Market, where the boys and I met him, by car, for breakfast bagels. Then we made our rounds, visiting our favorite vendors and shopping for the vegetables that will be the basis of our week’s menu. We bought ruby-red radishes for eating out of hand and for thinly slicing into tossed green salads, as well as asparagus, which I will serve as a side with salmon cakes, for a quick meal on a soccer night.

Since we first started dating, oh some eighteen years ago, John and I have had a Sunday ritual of watching sports. Back in the day, we mostly watched tennis and football—in fact, John proposed to me between quarters of a Bears game—but since have evolved our viewing to golf, X Games, downhill ski races, more cycling than you can imagine, and, now, soccer. I love that we can record sports events on the DVR and remain oblivious to the results. It really is like watching in real time. We haven’t missed a thing. Yesterday we were privileged to watch the United Champions League Final between Chelsea and Manchester United, which was held end of April. The first half was fast and tight with Manchester dominating. I look forward to watching the second half at my convenience!

Hope your weekend was restful.

welcome june

I’m ready for a new month!

May marked my first full month of being unemployed. I’d say I’m weathering it fairly well. Frankly, though, I don’t have a choice. Applying for a job is time consuming, especially whenever I need to bundle work samples. The interview process takes even longer, and now I'm in a holding pattern waiting for screening interviews, even. Still, I’m determined to make the most of my time, unencumbered by a job and the attendant stress, even if it means an occasional day when I feel at loose ends.


May highlights:
~ the flexibility to see some of my favorite people during the light of day (Caryl, Suzanne, Leon, Tracy, Ginny, and Katey—thanks for the camaraderie!)
~ travel, namely the well-documented Las Vegas trip
~ quality family time by way of school trips with each of the boys’ classes (pictured above, a view of the Mississippi River from Lock and Dam #1, one of Winston's field trips)
~ soccer, lots of soccer (I’m grooving on watching the boys build skills and become engaged in the game)
~ exercise (I’ve been getting in almost daily bike rides, and—without changing my diet—have lost six pounds)
~ finished two books (even though I haven’t allowed myself as much reading time as I’d like)
~ seasonal firsts: grilling dinner, soft-shell crab po' boy at Sea Salt (pictured below), and Sundays at the St. Paul Farmers Market
~ more blogging (I’m trying, really I am)


June heralds
~ warmer weather, which may even creep up toward hot
~ sleeping with the windows cranked open
~ stone fruit (hallelujah! I’m climbing off the locavore high horse to gorge myself with peaches, cherries, apricots, plums)
~ summer break from school (no more homework or rigid bed-and-bath schedules)

June is also for hunkering down. I would like to accomplish a number of things while I’m not chained to a desk:

~ clean the yard (pull weeds, pick up sticks, landscape, plant herbs and flowers)
~ finalize our wills (I know, I know)
~ finish our 2007 taxes (maybe we’ll get our rebate before the end of the year?!?)
~ throw away ALL the clutter that bogs down our existence (possibly insurmountable, but now is the time to tackle)

I think I’ll stop while I’m ahead ;)