I am thankful for Plenty

If I Should Die Before I Wake

Seriously! If something ever happens to Guy and Me, please, send someone right away to empty the fridge and freezer directly into some soup kitchen! None of this should go to waste. I have the phrase, “Because I come from the land of plenty” stuck in my head. Maybe because I just heard Collin Hay of Men without Hats on the radio yesterday or maybe because that’s what my fridge looks like.

THIS! This is not cleanup from Thanksgiving dinner! This is cleanup from the leftovers!

We have a fridge stocked to the gills for lunches and dinners this week. And the freezer is full too (well, ok, 90% is roasted green chiles but you get the point).

One of these days I really do need to cook for a shelter.

Another thought for the day… If you want to make people happy, learn to tell a joke or buy a really good stock pot!

Turkey noodle soup
Leftover thanksgiving meals
Red lentil curry with swiss chard
Apple sauce (home made)
Janet’s cranberry and orange sauce
Turkey for sandwiches

Anyone goes hungry in this house, it’s their own fault!

Thanksgiving without the pictures

Menu:
Oven Roasted Turkey seasoned with drywall dust
Joint compound and roasted garlic mashers
Blown in insulation stuffing
Hard hat brussels sprouts
# 10 Molly Asparagus

There is nothing like preparing Thanksgiving dinner (even 2 days late) in a construction zone. It gives the meal a flavor all its own.

Guy was working at his usual frantic pace to get the kitchen in working order, once again, so I could cook Thanksgiving dinner. I ran (literally) to Ace Hardware to get him parts they didn’t have. So I went to Home Depot and dragged our neighbor Janet along while we picked up her
long lost wallet.


When I arrived home, it was
time for the turkey to be in the
oven. The construction was still under way. I began preparing the stuffing in the dining room until there was enough room amidst the construction supplies on the kitchen counter.

I had brined the turkey in a cooler in the upstairs bath tub. After all, we have squirrels that could easily open the cooler and cart off a whole turkey, so I couldn’t put the cooler outside. No telling what’s living in the garage. And we don’t use the bath tub anyway since there are no walls around it. After the turkey had it’s bath, it rested in a roasting pan behind the ladder until I had room on the counter.

Eventually the soffet was built, spackles, and the defects in the wall were repaired. The pot rack was hung and the wiring to the plug beside the stove as well as a light switch to the lights over the sink. The kitchen was ready for cooking. 1 ½ hrs late so the cooking plan was changed to the high temp version.

Next the dining room was
cleaned and made ready.









As Guy was finishing rewiring the downstairs bathroom… just because he hadn’t done enough in the early part of the day, the guests arrived.

Alexis came up from Denver. Janet came from next door and brought Peaches, Sonny, and Buster to help clean the floor. Fortunately, I’d removed any construction by products that might harm them and left the floor clean enough to eat from.


Peaches, Sonny, and Buster are clearly neglected and on the verge of abused. It is obvious that Janet never feeds them and they are so love starved… At least that’s what they’d have you believe.

Sonny is normally afraid of Guy. He will occasionally come to Guy if he lies on the floor. But, if he also gives a few snitches of
turkey, it’s a whole different story.

Nothing like a holiday weekend to get a few things done.

Kill count:
2 Thanksgiving dinners eaten (each)
1 compost bin
5 GFI outlets installed
1 light switch installed
1 set track lighting now working
1 soffet installed around wires and gas line in kitchen
1 kitchen wall spackled
1 light fixture rewired
2 ceiling tiles replaced
1 closet painted
1 turkey roasted
1 Furnace rewired
1 Laundry room rewired
1 pot rack bought and hung
1 overhead light rewired
1 roman shade for bedroom and valence made
1 duvet cover made
1 sink repaired
4 trips to Home Depot
1 trip to Ace Hardware
1 garbage disposal rewired

Oh, and there’s another day left!

Gr-Attitude

Winter is nigh upon us
and the wind whistles at the door
as if to say
cold!
cold!
stay in where it's warm

Only the brave and foolish venture out
the rest of us
huddle behind steamy cups
and under fleecy hats

We are called to come play
to warm ourselves
by the fire within our spirit
and the friction
of sinew against bone

We are taunted by the crisp light
of stars
brighter against the blackness of cold
and the crunch and clatter of leaves
skittering across the trail

When we overcome the fatness of comfort
and layer ourselves into our shoes
the giddy ground rises and falls beneath us
pulling us onward
toward adventure

Tomorrow the trail may be hidden in snow
The rocks may be iced with treachery
But there will be another chance to run
away from winter
and another reason
for thanks giving

Lisa B
11/25/08

Jerk Stew another weekend in paradise

Last week was a busy one, what with the State Board Meeting and all. I spent two nights and two days in Denver so we decided to take a break this weekend. Haaaa Haaaa hah! Now that I’m done laughing…
We did take a break Friday night. Seems it was Matt Quinlan’s birthday so we went out to celebrate. Unfortunately, my Car-ma wasn’t up to snuff and I got stuck in traffic. Made it to O’Dell’s brewery about 20 minutes before closing in plenty of time for a cold one. That lunchtime salad wasn’t enough food for the day so I let Guy drive to dinner. Better, after a pile of heavy Mexican food, we drove home to drop off a car and ended up staying home after Guy imploded from his busy week (including coming to see me for dinner in Denver… but that’s another story).

Saturday started with business as usual… an early trip to Home Depot. Several errands later and the work began. The forecast for Sunday had looked wintry early in the week but they had changed it. Nonetheless, winterizing was on the list. I planted the herbs I’d bought for the cold frame (Thai Basil, oregano, parsley, sage) and Guy raked leaves. I set up a basement paint shop and proceeded to start painting the frames for the screens that fit the windows and the shelves for the closet. I got a good start before stopping to make pizzas before we were scheduled to go to the final show for the band 12 Cents for Marvin.

Oops… no oven. So we grilled the pizzas and they were fab! The mozzerella was naughty… Then it was my turn to implode. The week and the day caught up with me. It was a slow bike ride to the concert but the music was good once it started. We came home early but it will still be an early night tonight!

Sunday started much the way Saturday had… a trip to Home Depot. Then I got back into the painting and Guy got into the attic. He was working, among other things, on hooking up the stove so that he can have a turkey for Thanksgiving. Seems a bit like canabalizm to me to eat one of your own… but who am I to judge.




After many new words were invented and much painting was done, I finally heard Guy bellow “Woman, get into the kitchen and cook me some food.” Something about the manly art of wiring that makes someone who is normally rational bellow about obedience… ;-) No doubt my Mom and Dad could have clued him in to a realistic idea about me and the concept of obedience… But, I gamely went to the kitchen to enjoy my new stove/oven and cook him an appropriately fine batch of, none other than, Jerk Stew. No, no! I really mean that, Jerked Chicken as a stew (recipe to follow). It wasn’t nearly done by the time he went to Hockey but it will be ready to eat tomorrow and, best I can tell, will be a “do-over”… meaning that it will be made again… until I get it exactly right.

As should be obvious by now, this is totally in jest, except that Guy did get the oven working and I did make Jerk stew. While I am certain that Guy is perfectly capable of being a Jerk, I’ve never seen it… and while I’m sure I’m perfectly capable of being obedient, nobody has, or will, ever see it.

Tally for the weekend:

Trips to Home depot 2
Ovens connected 1
Track lighting installed 1
Loads of Laundry 4
Screens painted 4
Indoor Storms Made 10 (remember these from College?)
Herbs Planted 6
Leaves Raked tens of thousands
Thermostats installed 2
Pizzas made 4
Jerk Stew 1
Freezer Soup made 1




Jerked Chicken Stew Recipe

2 # chicken breasts or tenders, chopped into large bites
Jerk Seasoning (one batch or one jar if premade)
2 T Jump Up and Kiss Me (or other) Habanero Hot sauce
1 Butternut Squash, diced large
1 small bag baby carrots
1 (chernobyl aka extra super large) onion, diced large
2 Red bell peppers, chopped
2 green bell peppers, chopped
6 + cups chicken stock
Shrimp (optional if you want to share with a non-chicken eating person)
1-2 mangos diced

Marinate chicken in Jerk Seasoning and Habanero hot sauce for several hours to days. Saute onion in a bit of oil until beginning to be translucent (you can even caramelize if Guy’s not eating it). Add Chicken and brown. Pour in Stock and bring to a boil for 15 + minutes. Add squash and carrots and cook ½ hour. Add bell peppers, shrimp if desired, and cook another 15 minutes. Stir in mango before serving. Serve with rice.

Food and Love

My two favorite days of the year always happen within a week of each other. This is the week.

First is my Birthday. What makes it my favorite is that I get phone calls and emails from all the people who love me. I can think of nothing that makes me happier than talking to most, if not all, of the people I love so much in one day. What day could be better than that?!

Second is Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is all about truly enjoying everything you have and really wallowing in how good your life is. Some people call that gratitude... I like the visual of wallowing in all that good feeling. Thanksgiving is all about good food and good friends. What a fabulous combo.

My Birthday was Thursday of this week. I was in Denver for a meeting. Guy came down for my Birthday and we went to dinner. We decided to try a restaurant some friends had tried to take him to for years. When we got there, we were lucky enough to get a table. Then the owner/hostess told us they'd only been open a week. The other restaurant outgrew the space and moved to a trendy location in LoDo (Lower Downtown). She had opened one of my other fave Denver spots (Table 6) for someone else and opened this one for herself.

The menu was cryptic. Had I read it on the window outdoors, I'd have moved on down the road. But when explained, the menu at Venue sounded FAB!

Guy ordered a dish that simply read:

Flat Iron
chanterelle mushrooms, pearl onions, celery root

It was a shoulder cut of beef called a "flat iron" seared medium rare (to the rare side) on a bed of green beans, tomatos, caramelized pearl onions, and chanterelle mushrooms on top of celery root puree. It was outstanding and v.savory.

I had the special, a salmon fillet on a leek reduction (leeks cooked down with broth) with frisee on top.

The appetizer was a large plate of mussels steamed in a wine sauce with caramelized fennel, french tarragon, and tomatoes with the liquid poured over crusty bread.

Dessert was creme brulee over preserved cherries... we considered it Michigan Creme Brulee.

Ahhhh!
Birthdays are to be savored.

Book Worm

It's that time of the month again... that time when I get a little crabby and barely leave the sofa. No, not THAT time of the month, the reading time. Once a month I have a meeting that involves a lot of preparation. Volumes of reading... to the tune of 2000+ pages this month.

The first "packet" included a 600 page packet and a 1260 pg packet. Just as I was finishing the last couple hundred, another package arrived via UPS with another 360 pages. Ouch!

So, the Bean Cycle gets another night of me being parked on their sofa.

So last night, I noticed there was a new display of art work. It looked like a high school art class did a lot of india ink drawings. There were numerous distorted faces and a few animals. One pretty good cat was in the middle. The sofas were taken so I grabbed a worn out chair in the "pit" grouping in the middle of the place. I dug out my materials and then sat back an looked at the "art" work.

Just in front of me, in all its "glory" was the very hairy rear end of a man from the waist down and it was obvious that in front of him was a woman... you get the idea. I was shocked, to say the least. The next picture was a bunch of nudies around a cat in a cage. And a 3rd "colorful shower" so to speak. Suddenly I suspected it wasn't a high school art class. Weird.

I'm not sure if that put me in the right frame of mind for my reading but it was an amusing moment. I think I'll go to Everyday Joe's not-for-profit coffee bar tonight to read after my run. It's safer there. I'm skipping 2 for 1 burgers (veggie too) and $2 microbrew pints at the Trailhead to read this other packet. Sheesh! I'm dedicated.

Snippets and Fragments

Declining Dollars

I just bought a used book for $3.20 that cost $1.50 in 1975. The original price is clearly marked on the cover. The clerk at The Matter Bookstore said "that must have been when the dollar was worth a lot more." He wasn't even born in 1975.

I've bought several copies of this book as gifts. All of them cost about $6 at major bookstores. This one is a gift for Bethany. It will be worth every penny.

*********** ************ ************

Chasing the chill with new friends

Nights grow long and deep
Cold rattles in the branches
not yet muffled by snow
balanced by the warmth of tiny white lights
Clouds bloom on the rooftop across the street
and the wind
chases the stubborn leaves from the branches
to gather at the door, begging to be let in
I would run away
but for this bag on my shoulder
hanging heavy with work
and projects collecting in the corners

I met a new friend on trail last night
tomorrow, she and I will pour over tea leaves
or perhaps just drink coffee
Her Eastern and my Western
meeting in this town
new for both of us
to collaborate for good and for fun

********** *********** ***********

The coming of winter feels like gaining weight
Layers of clothing, tight with warmth
Laziness and inertia gathering in piles around my feet

********** ********** **********

I miss my old friends.
Names scattered on the calendar to remind me to celebrate them
even those who are gone or going

I would sit in this cafe across from tall, beautiful Alice and lose this day in her laughter. She is at once calm and adventurous.

To hear Red's voice say "Heeeeey Baaaabeeee"

I wonder where Chris is. How big are Leah and Holly now?

I heard from Jeffy last night. I miss his appetite for life. To taste it all without gluttony.

Ms. Lisa's gentleness and creativity. A dose of her inspiration would do me good right now.

Making History

One week ago all we heard on TV and the radio was how "History" was made by electing Barak Obama President of the United states. While I agree, it is noteworthy and a very good thing... don't we make history every day? I mean, EVERYTHING that IS becomes history. It's just that there are some things we deem worthy enough to write down as History.

I find it sad that it is so noteworthy that Barak Obama is African American. While we have crossed a barrier we are definitely no closer to being color blind. In fact, we are shining an even brighter light on the issue of race. For me, it is more intriguing that Mr. Obama is so close in age to me and therefore feel that we might have some similarities in what feels important for the present and future. Having a president who has a life expectancy of about 5 more years doesn't bode well for thinking in the long term.

Ironman Florida 2008

“I could do this, all I have to do is learn to swim!” That’s what I said at Ironman KY, 2007 and I had to put my money where my mouth is.

Wednesday October 29^th: Bags packed, we headed for the airport. At 48 lbs, it felt like my giant yellow Cabelas duffel was filled with iron. Instead, it was filled with bike pedals, bento boxes, saddles, spare tubes, and birthday presents. Our carry-on bags seemed equally heavy, stuffed full of clothing and wet suits. Loaded with gear and potential we boarded a plane to Atlanta; ultimately Florida bound.

The drive through Georgia and Alabama into the Florida panhandle involved miles of pine trees and kudzu; a stop to explore a field of cotton and swab Guy’s ears; and vigorous conversation about the merits of stopping by the Dothon National Peanut Festival for boiled, fried, Cajun, spiced, and roasted peanuts on the way back. I’m not sure whether Guy wanted to try the peanuts or watch me swell up like a tick. There was little change to identify the crossing of state lines but we knew we were well into Florida when we started seeing signs for the upcoming bike race along highway 231 on our way into Panama City.

We buzzed directly to Panama City Beach and the Boardwalk Beach Resort to register for Ironman Florida 2008 and pick up our packets. The area was abuzz with race setup, retail at its finest, and registration. We signed in, filled out our emergency information, and lined up to be weighed and receive our packets. When it was my turn, I tipped the scales at a svelte 175 lbs… until Guy took his toe off the back of the scale. I was given a wrist band, pink swim cap with my number on it, a packet with my numbers and instructions, and a T-shirt. The numerous volunteers all wished me luck, I was going to need all the luck I could get.

After a quick swim out two bouys on the course and back, we headed to Kurt and Amy’s house about 45 minutes across town at Tyndall AFB. Amy met us at the gate to sign us up for a pass and we headed to their house. While Florida is certainly not Colorado, it did resemble a paradise of sorts, backing up onto a beach with the Shell Islands on the horizon and the sun sinking low, hinting at the sunset to come.

The day before the race was Halloween. We spent most of the day preparing Kurt and Amy’s bikes to fit us the best possible (slightly larger than our bikes but oh-so-much lighter). Kurt guaranteed “2-flat Guy” that he would have no flats and he delivered on that promise which means new tires in Guy’s future. We packed gear bags for the swim-to-bike transition, the bike-to-run, and two special needs bags for mid-ride and mid-run. Dashing out at the last minute we arrived minutes before our bikes had to be racked and dropped off our gear. More than a little stressed from the tight timeline, I was in quick agreement for a cold beer and a snack before our swim. Kurt waited patiently while we suited up and swam out around a couple bouys again. Then we dashed back nearly as fast to pass out candy and see the boys in costume as pirates. It was essential to finish my pedicure with a coat of bright orange nail polish which Berg, Amy, and Wendy assured me would be the most buoyant and fastest color.

That night we headed back to Panama City Beach to stay at the home of Kurt’s friends. Keith and Natalia live about 10 minutes from the beach and have just build a large garage with a beautiful Mother-in-law apartment above it. After a brief introduction we settled in to make last minute sandwiches and eat ice cream before bed. The accommodations were primo and even came with doggie kisses before bed.

We parked a short distance from the race site and walked over with our last minute bags. We put on our wet suits and stood around the beach for the National Anthem and then the pro’s start. Soon we moved toward the water in a crowd of wetsuits topped with pink and blue swim caps. Everyone looked nearly the same but I’m absolutely sure I kissed the right Guy for good luck! I waited for the crowd to hit the water and start swimming. Then I started. My breathing was way off. I stopped. I started again, still off. When I came up again, there was Guy bobbing close by to encourage me. He told me he was staying with me and I’d be fine. I swam some more, still struggling but much better. I stopped one more time and he reminded me to go slowly so I slowed down. From there, I stopped only to sight when I was having trouble seeing the bouys. It took 2/3 of the first loop to get really comfy and relaxed. At the end of the first loop, Guy gave me a big kiss in front of the crowd and then we parted ways to do our own races. He blasted through the next loop feeling great. And I swam the next loop about 20 minutes faster than the first one, even passing many swimmers. I spotted two jellies floating below me near the end of the swim. I came out of the water jazzed and ran up to the “strippers” who pulled my wetsuit off before I ran through the showers.

As I came through the walkway of the hotel, I called out my number and at the other end my transition bag was waiting in the hands of a volunteer. I grabbed it with thanks and ran into the changing tent. There another volunteer took my bag and dumped it. She asked me about each item and helped me change clothes (even putting one sock on for me) and gather my wits and my gear. As I ran out eating a sandwich, two young girls with rubber gloves slathered my arms, legs, and face with more sunscreen. A volunteer called out my number and by the time I got to the rack with my bike it was standing at the ready with another volunteer. Are you getting the idea about how fabulous the volunteers are?

I crossed the mat and was off on the bike elated that I already had my victory regardless of what came next. The first 20 miles fell quickly and I was hopeful. At mile 50, I grabbed one of my sandwiches and still felt great despite the mild but gradual uphill and the headwind. By mile 60, the wheels were coming off… not off the bike, my wheels. My shorts were bunching up and chafing my legs. The seat was becoming painful and my right Achilles was screaming. I slowed down considerably after that. An out and back with particularly bumpy cracks was a very painful experience that took whatever wind was left in my sails. I was convinced I wouldn’t make the 4 o’clock cutoff at 90 miles and even if I did, I surely wouldn’t make the last 22 miles in 1.5 hours after that. In fact, I almost hoped I wouldn’t make it. But make it, I did, by 15 minutes. And then someone went by and said, “we can make it, only 13 miles to go.” I picked up the pace, I’m not sure how. I started pedaling faster and inching up the gearing. I started singing Mark Cohn’s “Dig Down Deep” to myself in my head. I knew it was going to be close. I wasn’t sure I had enough left and then, how would I run. Remembering from ultras that it is best not to do math and not to think too much, I just kept pedaling trying to convince myself that I was a perpetual motion machine. I rolled into the transition to cheers of “you’ve made it!” I crossed the mat 15 minutes under the cutoff.

A quick change and ½ sandwich and I was out on the run in 5 minutes. Completing a section and the crowd gets you jazzed. I took off alternating running and walking. I was stiff but amazed how good I felt. I watched for Kurt and Amy and the Kids but didn’t see them. Then I started watching for Guy, finding him at about mile 3 on his way back in. I was pretty sure he might be finishing but would be amazed to see him headed out again on my way back. Some of the miles seemed long, some seemed short, but all of them were uncomfortable at best. Both Achilles were now hurting and so was nearly everything else. Training might have made that less but what is, is and I probably deserved some pain for not having done it.

The turnaround point at the State Park finally came into view and I crossed the mat. It was dark by then and the flood lights were sparse. A flashlight might have been helpful but this road was pretty good and it wasn’t essential. I ran back about ½ way and again, my lack of endurance caught up with me. I walked more and ran less back to the start/finish chute and the turn-around. I could barely run on the second lap so I channeled my friend Jay Norman and walked as fast as I possibly could. I was sure they said at the pre-race meeting that the cutoff at the turnaround was 10 p.m. and I just knew I wouldn’t make it. I might get pulled for time but I wasn’t going to quit! Another runner passed me doing the shuffle. He was a first timer and, he said, a last timer. He had no idea how painful something could be. It was painful, but nothing that the weight of a finisher’s medal couldn’t cure.

At 10:20, I made the turn about ¼- ½ mile behind him and they let me go through. As I made my way back with my chicken walk (trying to keep my Achilles from tearing in half) they were taking down the aid stations and some were gone completely. Grazing herds of deer had replaced the volunteers and several caught me by surprise. I caught up to the same guy at about mile 23 and he asked if we could finish. I told him I wasn’t quitting and that I would finish either before or after midnight but that I was going for it. He seemed resigned to try if I was going to. It seemed bleak for both of us.

About another mile down the road, a white car rolled up beside me and the window rolled down… it was my Prandsome Hince with a white-but-not-quite-steed. He was thrilled to see me still moving and I was thrilled at his support. He told me I had 25 minutes to go the last 2.2 miles and that I could make it but I would have to run. Once again, I began digging deep. I told him I’d like him to be there at the finish line and he took off (knowing he’d have to drive fast to beat me ;-) The first few steps felt like flames up the backs of my legs, I couldn’t. I walked again. I tried again and again until I could run 10 feet and then 50. I was alternating my fast walk and a run. The last mile I was able to run most of it with only a few short bits of walking as I’d find myself slowing down. I was hearing the announcer in the distance and finally, the chute. I summoned up everything else I had left and ran into the chute finishing at 16:51:41 to receive my medal and my congratulatory kiss from Guy. Unbelievable, I had pulled it off!

I had pulled it off with an incredible amount of luck (but then, I’d rather be lucky than good any day!) and with the well wishes of a lot of folks. I channeled a lot of great people during the race and had lots of time in my head to think about them. There were all the police on every corner and all the incredible volunteers I thanked along the course and those who were behind the scenes I didn’t even know about. All of them made my race possible. My swim coach Wendy did wonders for my stroke and my confidence, helping make the swim my best leg. Core PT who patched up my ankle at the last minute after I pulled my Slinky act down the basement stairs. Kurt and Amy gave us a wonderful place to stay, great food, and kisses from Berg and Kai to inspire us. And Guy gave me incredible support through all of my learning to swim, my anxiety, and my race.

The winners had finished eons before me but I still had my victory. Now it was time to celebrate! First with a heavenly hot shower. Do you know how good it feels to wash off hours of sweat and pain and Gatorade and sea salt? And then the feel of clean sheets and a soft mattress? Sleep was wonderful but broken by many awakenings as I moved my sore limbs. Soreness was not to dampen my spirits for relaxation time and Berg’s 4^th birthday. I haven’t said much about Kurt, Amy, Berg, or Kai because this is mostly the story of the race… I’ll save that for the next story on my blog. But, it was his birthday celebrated with a piñata surfside and caramel apples (made with Amy-made fresh cream caramel), pumpkin lasagna (made more for me than Berg) and a luscious yellow cake with raspberry filling and chocolate ganache. There is no better refuel for body or spirit than the delight of a 4 year old at his birthday and amazing eats from my favorite chef, a quick snorkeling excursion before sunset and a relaxing evening with fabulous friends. Snuggles from the boys and wags from the dogs were icing on the cake.

It was time to head home. A longish car ride to Macon gave us plenty of opportunity to tighten up and remember the race. But lunch with cousin Anne and uncle Bill was a lovely end to the vacation. Now it feels more like a vacation than the work of race day. And now… it’s time to train for Lake Placid.