Just back from 12 days of vacation, and upon sitting down to start wading through what's surely to be a thousand some e-mail messages at work, I realize I cannot remember my password. Cannot, cannot, cannot remember. Nope, can't do it. I'm thinking of all the patterns I use, staring at the keyboard, staring at each key individually in hopes that some letter or symbol or something might give me a spark. But no. Nada, zippo, nothing, zilch, squatoosie comes to mind. Completely blank.
I guess there are a few ways I could look at this: 1) that was an unusually successful vacation, 2) my email is really secure, or 3) I have mad cow disease and it's eating holes in my brain. Maybe a combination?
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Unforgiving
I used to think the bikini was the most unforgiving garment a gal like me (with about 25 pounds to spare) could choose to put on her body. It's not. It's bike shorts. Oh. My. God. Now, I have seen plenty of bony-assed biker chicks running around in their padded lycra bike shorts and tight-fitting jerseys, and let me tell you, their bike shorts do not do what my bike shorts do. And my bike shorts are the best of the bunch of a dozen or so that I had the ever-so-humiliating experience of trying on. I will not embarass myself further by describing the details. Suffice it to say that it will be a looooong time before I trade in my thigh-length tee shirts for one of those colorful bike shirts.
Only two things money can't buy
That's true love and home grown tomatoes. Can you disagree with Guy Clark (and John Denver and Jimmy Buffet)? Not around this house.
We are starting to reap the rewards of the tomato jungle. Most evenings I go out and pick whatever's ripe. Some make it back into the house. :)
Preliminary taste test results:
| Tomato | Erica | Bill |
|---|---|---|
| Sweet Baby Girl | good | blech - buttery |
| Mr. Stripey | so-so | good |
| Black Cherry | so-so | blech - flavorless |
| Snow White | good | good |
| Sun Gold | YUM YUM YUM | good |
| Matt's Wild Cherry | good - strong | "quite tasty" |
That's it for now. Anxiously awaiting the Dona, Valencia, Principe Borghese, Limmony, Tomatillo, Great White, and the famous Brandywines.
New bike!
After weeks of looking at bikes all over town, with Bill being underwhelmed and me having no idea what I was looking at, Bill went out and bought me a new bike last weekend. Me, I didn't really want to spend the money for a new bike. I have a bike. It's an old Fuji with opalescent paint that I bought used in Minneapolis about 15 years ago. Over the years I've replaced this and that trying to make it more comfortable; the latest addition was absurdly large cruiser handlebars, which even I admit look a bit odd. Bill calls it my Frankenstein bike. For many years I was not exactly an active person, though, and my Frankenstein bike had been more than serviceable for what I needed.
But here's the problem: Bill has this awesome Rodriguez road bike, custom made right here in Seattle by R&E cycles. He can ride and ride and ride all day long. I couldn't. My idea of a bike ride was up the street a few blocks, around the playground, and home. Or about five miles on the flat, paved, Burke Gilman trail. So it was a drag to ride our bikes together. He was convinced that my Frankenstein bike was the problem. It's heavy, it's not fitted properly, it doesn't have enough gears to go up hills easily (not such a huge problem in Minneapolis, but definitely an issue around here), and the gears it has I don't really understand anyway. He was convinced that I would enjoy biking more, and be able to go on longer and harder rides (i.e. keep up with him) if I had a better, lighter bike that was properly fitted. I followed his thinking, but still didn't want to shell out for a whole new deal. I still thought we could take my old Frankenstein to the professionals and have it doctored up.
So out of the blue last Friday, Bill announces "I bought you a bike. Your fitting is tomorrow at 11:30." Uh, okay. I was instantly intimidated because I knew I'd have to get on the thing in the store and pedal while the fitter watched me. I hate it when people look at me. Especially when I have no idea what I'm doing. But I went anyway, and Smiley (yup, that's his name) walked me through the whole thing, including how to get in and out of the clipless pedals and how to shift the gears, and tweaked every last little thing so that it was just right for me, me, me: my shoulders, my back, my hips, my knees, my ankles, everything.
That evening we went for a test ride on the Burke Gilman, and oh, what a difference a proper bike fitting makes! Well, a fitting, and a slick, light, speedy bike! Twenty one miles - no sweat! And the only things that made us turn around were 1) need for dinner and 2) need for real bike shorts. It's fun when everything works right and you understand how to shift and can take off when you want to!
So, if you're in Seattle and your neck or back or knees or shoulders or wrists hurt when you ride your bike, go see Smiley at R&E Cycles. Seriously. The man is a genius.
But here's the problem: Bill has this awesome Rodriguez road bike, custom made right here in Seattle by R&E cycles. He can ride and ride and ride all day long. I couldn't. My idea of a bike ride was up the street a few blocks, around the playground, and home. Or about five miles on the flat, paved, Burke Gilman trail. So it was a drag to ride our bikes together. He was convinced that my Frankenstein bike was the problem. It's heavy, it's not fitted properly, it doesn't have enough gears to go up hills easily (not such a huge problem in Minneapolis, but definitely an issue around here), and the gears it has I don't really understand anyway. He was convinced that I would enjoy biking more, and be able to go on longer and harder rides (i.e. keep up with him) if I had a better, lighter bike that was properly fitted. I followed his thinking, but still didn't want to shell out for a whole new deal. I still thought we could take my old Frankenstein to the professionals and have it doctored up.
So out of the blue last Friday, Bill announces "I bought you a bike. Your fitting is tomorrow at 11:30." Uh, okay. I was instantly intimidated because I knew I'd have to get on the thing in the store and pedal while the fitter watched me. I hate it when people look at me. Especially when I have no idea what I'm doing. But I went anyway, and Smiley (yup, that's his name) walked me through the whole thing, including how to get in and out of the clipless pedals and how to shift the gears, and tweaked every last little thing so that it was just right for me, me, me: my shoulders, my back, my hips, my knees, my ankles, everything.
That evening we went for a test ride on the Burke Gilman, and oh, what a difference a proper bike fitting makes! Well, a fitting, and a slick, light, speedy bike! Twenty one miles - no sweat! And the only things that made us turn around were 1) need for dinner and 2) need for real bike shorts. It's fun when everything works right and you understand how to shift and can take off when you want to!
So, if you're in Seattle and your neck or back or knees or shoulders or wrists hurt when you ride your bike, go see Smiley at R&E Cycles. Seriously. The man is a genius.
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