this evening, there was a long string of honking canadian geese that flew overhead as i got into my car. there was something graceful and beautiful about them. i have a greater appreciation for migrating birds ever since watching the movie “winged migration.”
not so deep? i laughed this evening as i drove past a business whose sign was partially burned out. the letters that remained spelled, “american ho and car service.”
julia kasdorf made it into the writer’s almanac for today.
i saw a rainbow on the way to work today. it wasn’t raining. it was a very faint brushstroke of color in the sky. you almost couldn’t see it if you looked directly at it, but it kept tapping at the corner of my vision as i was driving to work.
for the past few years, my town has hosted an ironman triathlon. this year’s race happens tomorrow. one of my friends convinced me to try out the swim portion of the race this morning. “see, you can go and leave your stuff at this booth right by the water, sponsored by gatorade. they watch your stuff while you’re swimming and then they give you free gatorade!” “and they don’t care whether you’re actually in the race?” “nope.” it was true. so, this morning, i found myself in the lake. i have never really swum in deep water before. in fact, a year ago, i didn’t know how to swim. last year’s aids ride (400 miles on a bike in 6 days) was the first time i’d really, head-on faced my fear of sports. it was one of the safest environments to take on such a giant, seemingly unsurmountable task. there were people surrounding me the whole way, cheering me on, fixing my bike, plying me with powerade and food. before the ride, i did a lot of biking. a lot. but, up until about a month or so before the ride, i hadn’t really felt like i’d reached my limit. i had biked some long days, yeah. i’d been dog tired, yeah. but, i hadn’t reached my breaking point. and i wanted to experience that before the ride so i’d know that i could handle it and how it would feel. i hit my breaking point (on a bike) for the first time on an official aids ride training ride. we rode out to “the rock of gibraltor” and back. on the way back, there was a hill that was longer and steeper than anything i’d yet attacked. and i tried to power my way up it. and i started crying with frustration. and then, i realized that crying and heavy, labored breathing don’t go well together. my throat started to close up and i struggled to even breathe. i began to get an inkling of how ashthmatics feel. i walked to the top of the hill and relaxed and was able to get my breath back to normal. it was scary, but when it was over, i realized that i was fine and i had learned not to cry (at least not cry hard–tears dripping from eyes seems to be ok) really hard when i’m struggling up a hill. it was a valuable lesson to learn before the aids ride where i experienced lots of frustration, lots of hills and lots of tears, but no breathing problems, thanks to my earlier experience. (i also learned that “powering up” hills is not necessarily the best plan of attack.)
i think today, i experienced a swimming breaking point. my friend (who is a much stronger swimmer than i but who agreed to swim next to me as long as i needed it today) and i swam out to the ramp that the water ski jumpers use in their shows each sunday. at that point, i was feeling great! i was swimming with fabulous rhythm, i felt strong. the water felt wonderful and i said, “yeah, let’s keep going!” sometime soon after getting past the ramp…not sure what happened. the water got choppier? the wide open expanse sparked panic in me? i swallowed some water and couldn’t recover? i suddenly began a frantic succession of “my friend the doggy paddle” and “my friend the backfloat” all the while trying to calm down and breathe. i asked my friend if i could grab onto him for support for a minute and he agreed. a kayak happened by (he was there for the ironmen) and offered a rest on the bow of his boat which i accepted. after a little rest, i agreed to swim out to the next landmark (watermark?) which was a floating yellow ball buoy. i dog paddled the whole way. i clung to the buoy. my friend eventually began saying things like, “ma’am, step away from the buoy.” i felt like i was floating away from the shore and i started panicking because i figured my swim back in would be that much more difficult. he pulled me off the buoy and we started back to shore. dog paddle, “my friend the side stroke,” dog paddle, try to get into a normal swimming position and realize my breath is too shallow. i keep breathing in when i’m under water. i can’t exhale long enough for a single stroke (i usually exhale for four strokes). eventually, as we near the shore, i’m able to pull it together and get back to a freestyle stroke. i thank my friend profusely and he goes back out to swim a real half mile and i shakily walk to the gatorade booth and get my bag and my free gatorade. and i am elated. i did it. i freakin’ did it. i hit my breaking point and i survived. and now i know what to work on. but, thank god, next week’s triathlon is in a much less deep lake.
so there’s this place. when we first moved here, it was a coffee shop. that went out of business. then, it became “the cookie guy” and he painted the building lime green and advertised “we deliver!” and he went out of business. the funny thing was, that even when the shops were supposedly open for business, they didn’t really ever look open. there were no little tables to sit at. no one was ever sitting at the cash register waiting for customers. there was often a bike parked inside, leaning against the front of the counter. mr. happy stuff and i surmised that all of these random businesses must all be fronts for elaborate drug traffic operations because how else would they even stay in business long enough to paint the sign?
the most recent incarnation of the place includes a printed vinyl sign (hung over the “cookie guy” awnings) that reads, “tortilleria del norte.” this sign was up for about 3 months (maybe longer) with no sign of the place being inhabited at all and i was about to give up on the exciting prospect of a real live tortilleria almost within walking distance of my house when we drove by one day and the neon “open” sign was lit up! “mr. happy stuff! it’s not a drug front anymore!” i said happily to my husband as we drove by. a few days later, i stopped by to sample the wares. ok, the place still isn’t hugely inviting. despite the bright exterior, the inside is pretty stark white. they put up a garland of plastic mexican flags and a few mini mexican blanket wall hangings, but other than that and the neon sign in the window, there’s nothing else. the first day, i walked in and asked what they had. (there was no menu.) “we have white corn tortillas, three dozen for one dollar.” i was pretty sure i hadn’t heard the last part right, but i thought we could get to that later.
“so, you don’t have any flour tortillas?”
“no, only corn.”
“ok, i’ll try those.”
so, she dutifully wrapped up about 3 dozen tortillas (i think they actually parcel them out by weight) in paper and included a plastic bag with the verbal instructions that i should put them into the plastic when they cooled. (my mind started singing when i realized that these babies were fresh!) and she rang me up. “one dollar.” i handed her a dollar, still expecting her to say, “no, five dollars, silly american girl.” but, she took my dollar and said, “have a nice day!” and i walked out, stunned at my luck. maybe the place is a drug front. otherwise, how the heck can they pull a profit with prices like that?
today, i went back for more. they now have a dry erase board on the wall that explains their price schedule:
3 dozen (one packet) $1.00
1 case (16 packets) $13.00
good lord. that’s five hundred and seventy six tortillas for under $15.00. and i haven’t even mentioned that they are delicious. especially the first six that i cram into my mouth when i get home before they cool down. i worry about their business. i don’t want to lose them. i don’t think they’re charging enough. in the mean time, i’ll support their business the best way i know how. must go get another tortilla.
i mentioned the other day that i made some magnets. for some reason, some of them took forever to dry and the glue to get clear. i was finally able to take a picture of them. the lighting’s a little dark, but you can get the general idea. aren’t they cute? if you hate them, let me know because they might end up being the christmas craft gift of the year. or maybe not if i discover something cuter. it was going to be homemade jam, but what with it being freezer jam and what with most people that i was planning to give it to already making their own jam…this is plan b. you may remember that last year’s christmas craft gift was slippers made from felted wool sweaters. still have a whole lot of felted sweaters…anyone have a good crafty suggestion for them? any requests from those of you who are on my gift list? do you want….checkers games made from felted wool? purses? funky dolls? or would you rather have some altered art if i ever get around to it?
on sunday morning, i was eating breakfast and i heard rustling behind me. i turned and ginger was on top of the table in the kitchen with her paw dipped into the container of corn chips. she dipped her paw in again and again, curling it up and trying to get some chips out. she finally got some out and started eating them, tossing her head like she was trying to kill a mouse or something. it was hilarious looking! and she was eating corn chips! or maybe just licking the salt off…
just a quick note to say that this week’s happy farmer’s market discoveries were unpasteurized apple cider, pink pearl apples, and a guy wearing a beanie with a propeller on the top that twirled in the breeze as he walked.
today is labor day. usually, we have some big travel plans, but this year, we stayed home. we didn’t even have any big “fix the house” projects planned. and i had a very satisfyingly productive day, checking off little items that have been on my “could do” list for…a very long time. today, i marked off, “transfer addresses to new address book” and realized that most of the addresses in my old book are either a) outdated and no longer true or b) for people i haven’t spoken to since middle school or c) for people i don’t even remember. my new address book is much less full. hey, send me your address!
i also (yesterday) crossed off “organize excess magazines in craft room.” mr. happy stuff cut down the remains of a tree that had been halved by a tornado last year and worked on fixing our homemade tivo. the other biggie for today was “fix window screens.” we’ve had a three-corner tear in the screen of the window right next to our front door that has been there for a long time. i keep expecting the cats to take advantage of it and break free, but instead, the last time ginger escaped, she chose the basement screen to burst through. granted, those are at ground level, so they’re super tempting for a clean getaway…. anyway, i replaced the screen in 3 windows today! woo hoo! we’ll see if the one on the front window holds….it’s a little not-so-taut.
then, there were a bunch of things not on any list that i got done today too! i made raspberry freezer jam, i prepped to make grape jelly tomorrow, i tried out a new zucchini casserole this evening (sort of a lasagna with zucchini instead of pasta), i made some new cute refrigerator magnets, and i made english muffins from scratch. they’re kind of time consuming. they’re a yeast dough, so you have to mix them, cut them out, wait for them to rise and then you have to cook them on the stovetop on a dry skillet, 10 minutes each side. i can only fit about 3 english muffins in my pan at one time and the recipe made about 15 muffins. you’ll want to stick around the house to make these. (quick question for the brits: do they call them “english muffins” over there too?) but i wanted to try making them from scratch because i remembered this one time that granny happy stuff made homemade english muffins. before i’d tried hers, i was pretty convinced that i hated english muffins. storebought ones were dry and kind of sour tasting and bleh. my grandma’s homemade english muffins changed my mind. they were delicious!!! so, i decided to try my hand at this recipe that i’d seen in a magazine once and copied out. the finished product is pretty good! still not quite as soft as i remember grandma’s being (maybe i’ll try a different recipe? maybe i’ll roll them thicker? cook them less long? hmmm….). so, i served them alongside the new zucchini casserole for dinner with butter and garlic powder. mr. happy stuff says, “we’re having english muffins for dinner?” and i say, “yes, i made them from scratch! how are they?” and he says, “tastes like an english muffin.” the intonation here implied, “why in the world would you go to the effort of spending 20 minutes to cook three muffins and then repeat the process 5 more times when you can purchase a perfectly nice package of 6 thomas brand muffins in about 5 seconds?” sigh. i pointed out that he appreciated the difference between a home-brewed batch of beer and a can of miller lite and he said (in reference to the muffins), “it’s not that i can’t tell the difference, it’s that i don’t care.” maybe i’ll just finish the muffins all by myself. anyone else want to try one? i could try shipping a few. maybe with some fresh grape jelly? just send me your address so i can add it to my new address book.
i love to throw parties. the house gets cleaned, i get energized to make yummy food, and best of all, when the party’s over, i’m already home!
yesterday, the gang decided to forego our semi-annual bike/camping long weekend trip and instead bike around town and incorporate other physical activities as well. we had a potluck breakfast at the first stop (which was amazing. there were pancakes, biscuits and gravy, sausage, bacon, granola, yogurt, baked oatmeal, fruit…) then biked to a park where we played frisbee golf. ok, really, my game was more like throw a frisbee, hike to where it landed, throw it again, hike, throw, hike, throw, hike, maybe get close to the goal, move to the next “hole” and repeat. some of us cut out a little early and went back to the shady shelter for a picnic lunch. then, we biked to a community pool and swam for about 45 minutes, then some of us played tennis and then we all ended up back at our house for a potluck grilling supper. it was delicious. it was a lot of fun. there was a giant stack of dishes, but i didn’t care. there’s just something about having a houseful of happy people that makes me smile.
