Weekend Workstorm

Hola  Amigos, 

The Carpenter here, with the news.

The remodel progresses.

All rough-in, and Utility inspections have been approved. The Cabinets are here, the tile is here and the walls are only just insulated. Drywall is  necessary to install both. We are ok per tile but behind on Drywall. It’s been a productive solo effort this weekend as Nancy is doing homework, too.

Optimism is beneficial,and necessary. A fire under your butt gets some serious mojo working. 

It’s madcap hijinks, and also serious fun. Sleep is for the weak, progress is good !

Enjoy the sunlight, and sleep fast !

-Stelvis 

[after a busy weekend and some good jamming at Paul and Marys Skishindig]

The Unbearable Tightness of Flying

Remind me never to fly into Philadelphia again. It’s close to other eastern city airports. Tell me to fly into them, rent a car, and then drive to my Pennsylvania destination.

To keep things in perspective: it was not the quintessential undiluted nightmare scenario of sitting on the tarmac for 13 hours without food, water or working lavatories, which is my personal standard of the truly horrible air travel experience. It was only an hour and a half waiting in Minneapolis because of the back-up in Philadelphia, and then another hour waiting in Philadelphia after arriving, and then on return to Minneapolis two days later, waiting again for almost an hour in Philadelphia because they were all backed up. On that leg I was next to John Ginormitron, a six foot five inch, circus big, hairy white guy IN SHORTS who took up fully half the air space of my seat. Sitting on the wing would have been more comfortable. Unfortunately I couldn’t fully hate him because his air travel sob story was way worse than mine. He and his family (yes, screaming kids, too. But that’s still a choice) got to the airport at 4:30 AM, and, after a number of ridiculously unlikely fiascos, wound up finally on my 5:22 PM departing flight that actually took off at 7:30. And he was a pretty nice guy, even after all that. A nice, super huge, guy. I just made myself a two-dimensional, piece-of-paper-person pressed up against the inside of the plane, face shmooshed up against the window, coveting all that nice, open space outside the window.

Even though, and in spite of all that, I still love flying. What I love best is the take-off when this huge, multi-ton, metal container goes faster and faster and faster and you fear you’ll just run off the end of the road but then, LIFT, up up up up, and you’re flying. Flying! What a crazy, miraculous thing. And you watch the earth drop away from you, and your stomach feels buoyant, and you see this living geography below you, with cars and the lakes you just ran around this morning, and it’s like seeing it on TV because it’s framed by the window, but it’s real, and those are real people in their cars, talking on their cell phones and texting like idiots. You are detached from the earth, like a spaceship only in a lower orbit, and if you’re flying alone, all your people are down there, and here you are, in space, flying above everything. It’s pretty cool.

A funny thing happened on the way to the finish line ...

I sit here on our lovely screen porch, having some Chex mix with peanuts, listening to the wind blow through the trees, admiring Kismet's ability to sleep 20 hours a day.  The gimlet helps medicate the still-sore quads from yesterday's race.

And what a race it was.  I set out hoping for a best time of 4:15 on a hilly course.  I ended up running a whole 10 minutes faster, finishing in 4:04:40.  Which qualifies me as a 50-year-old woman to run the Boston Marathon.  AIEEEEEE!!!!!  Don't think I didn't think of this as I saw myself within one hour of the finish at 20 miles.  I only had to keep cranking out 9-minute miles - a pace I generally don't run even in a 10k.  Which was exactly the distance to the finish.

But I did it anyway.  Yes, I made pathetic little crying sounds the last two miles.  But I made it in with, technically, one minute & 19 seconds to spare (because the qualifying time is 4:05:59).  And I ran the second half of the marathon faster than the first (2:03:38, 2:01:02).

But enough about me.  Steve ran the quarter marathon and did 100% of the driving on the trip.  We had a little adventure with a flat tire in Eau Claire on Friday night, and got to meet the nice people at Saturn of Madison on Saturday to get a new tire put on.  We got to spend some time with folks from our running club, the Minnehaha Marathoners, who were running the 4-person relay at the race.  It was good.

But the best part was qualifying for Boston.  I still can't believe it.

50

Well, it does look like a big number, but then again, it depends on the context: it’s what you’d pay to buy Baltic Avenue in Monopoly (or is it Mediterranean Ave?). If it were a lottery payout, you’d think it was a pretty small number. Compared to the age of the universe, it’s a blip. So, 50 is really only as big as you make it. If you even want to make it a deal at all.

But it is kind of a deal. If I don’t do something stupid and die before I’m 100, 50 is smack dab in the middle of middle age. It feels like a bigger deal than 40. I suppose when I turn 60, I’ll be saying the same thing about 50. But it’s kind of a landmark - like New Year’s, it’s a time to take stock of your life.

Phrases like, “take stock of your life,” automatically make me want to rebel and go out and break minor laws. The words are uttered in a faintly British accent, in sonorous, serious tones, and I’m fairly sure the products thusly stocked involve Serious Endeavors, Reproduction (and of not just average children, but of highly achieving, Mensa members), A Lot of Money in the Bank, and A Very Clean House.

I have none of these things.

What I do have is the memory from a bicycle trip where my bike was leaning up against a picnic table, panniers front and back, and I looked at it and thought, “That’s all I need.” So when I look at our messy, mid-remodel house, and my messy, unemployed delight of a husband, and my I-love-it-most-of-the-time job (and the fact that I have a job at all), not to mention my sweet family, my most excellent friends, and my most adorable and fuzzy kitty, well, I have to say, I feel like I’m doing okay.

We’re up here in the very frozen northland of Superior, Wisconsin, on the edge of Lake Superior, which is ice for a good mile out from the harbor. The ice buckles up into a ridge where it meets the open water, and the ridge is visible from the shore. It makes a person feel very small and easily frozen.

But somewhere between the expanse of the whole wide universe and the minutiae of me lies the Anchor Bar in Superior, and the in-the-moment pleasure of a great burger and fries and excellent beer. Life is where you grab it and make it great, and may you do so whether you’re 5 or 25 or 50 or 89. Cheers!

Arizania

Winter?  What winter?  Today it reached 76 degrees in Tucson.  Sadly, we had to wear shorts.  We drove to Sabino Canyon to run up the 3.7 miles to the end and back, and finished off the trip with sammies & Tecate.

We are ensconced here in the casita of our Bisbee pals, Paul & Lynne, right in the middle of Tucsonia, and have been enjoying some down time just with our own personal selves after holidaying it up with Nancy's parents in Sun City, as well as her brother David, gorgeous wife, Judy, and typical teenage son Alex (what, me smile for a picture?? No way, man).

After the Christmas thang, we drove up to Sedona to see Nancy's college friend, Nancy Ho, along with her sis Judy & mystery boyfriend, David, who is also internally 14 years old, just like Steve.  Two days with them and too many cookies (is there really such a thing) equals happy Christmas fulfillment.

We are looking forward to New Year's Eve with Clay & Lisa (who made a brief clandestine tequila rendezvous Sunday PM to our delight) and Paul & Lynne and other folks when we go see Los Lobos at the Rialto.  And then three more days in Bisbee with them as we celebrate Steve's birthday on January 3rd.

Stay tuned.

Fall

We are on the waning side of the season. That's okay, though - it's been a pretty outstanding October.

We started the month celebrating our 14th wedding anniversary on the 8th by spending two idyllic nights at one of the octagonal "villas" at the top of Spirit Mountain overlooking Duluth & Lake Superior (www.mtvillas.com). Since I was in marathon taper mode, I could eat anything and everything, especially if it was full of carbs. This was fun.

Next, we drove to Bayfield where we stayed with Michelle, Tom & Isaac for the weekend. On Saturday the 11th, Steve & I rose early to get to the buses taking runners to the full & half Whistlestop Marathon starting lines (www.whistlestopmarathon.com). Steve ran the half - a great accomplishment considering he'd been hobbling around on crutches just 3 weeks prior (some kind of Achilles inflammation). I ran the full marathon and had a great race till the last 3 miles, when I wanted to die. But I sucked it up and ran those last 3 million miles anyway, finishing in 4:14:04. This is under 10 minute miles (9:42s). Considering I was hoping to finish in 4:25 at best, I kicked some serious butt. Mostly my own. But still. The next morning I could barely walk down the stairs. This pleased Tom, who said it was nice to see someone younger than he is feel the way he does every morning.

We got back home on the 12th, worked for a few days, then headed west to Seattle on the 17th to visit Rob & Kim and do a little road-tripping. After the traditional oyster feed at the Brooklyn, and accordian rhapsodies by Kim (with Steve on rhythm accordian), we bid farewell to Rob, who was heading out on yet another fishing trip for his job. Poor Rob. He gets paid to fish.

Monday morning we rolled bleary-eyed out of bed at 4:45 AM to drive up to Anacortes and catch the ferry to Sidney, BC, on Vancouver Island. We had, surprisingly, wound up renting a hot red Mustang (the other choice was a Crown Vic, which intrigued Steve for its cop car qualities, but which was about as long as the ferry). We expected to get at least one speeding ticket, but we must drive like old people now. We didn't even get pulled over.

From Sidney, we drove south to Victoria, where we had lunch above a dive shop & talked to the divemaster there for awhile (totally unpredictable vis, he said; totally teeming sea life). Our Vancouver Island destination was Nanaimo, where we were staying a night at the Pine & Picket, a B&B that had good verbiage on Trip Advisor (www.thepineandpicket.com). We weren't disappointed. Our hosts, Ania & Ingvar, were really nice. Ingvar shared a bottle of homemade wine with us, and Ania made the best eggs benny & scones I think I've ever had. Nanaimo was a little weird, though - can't really say why. It just had kind of a weird vibe. It might have been the bar we stopped into in the old part of town. An old guy came up to me and said, "Who do you work for? Who do you work for??" I said, "General Mills. We make cereal," all the while thinking, "I hope he likes cereal." (Note - I won't make a cereal killer reference here.) Then he scuttled away.

The next morning we boarded a cruise-line-like BC ferry for Horseshoe Bay, just north of Vancouver. An hour & a half later, we were cruising along the mountain road in our red Mustang, just like a car commercial. We took a little side trip up to the Cypress ski area, where some of the 2010 Olympic events will be held. Lots & lots of building and activity. Then we headed to our hotel, the Sylvia. What a great location! We were just south of Stanley Park, a beautiful, pristine park on the northern tip of the peninsula where Vancouver is. It reminded me of San Francisco. We explored Stanley Park on a couple morning runs, and rented bikes one afternoon to go around Stanley Park, False Creek & Granville Island.

Though Steve tried valiantly to find Cuban cigars at a reasonable price, he was thwarted in his efforts, and we crossed back into the US with no contraband in our hot red Mustang. We spent Thursday night with Bob Hal & Rebecca in Seattle - Steve & Bob went out to Connie's Rimrock (fave neighborhood haunt) and stayed up till, like, 3 AM, which didn't hurt Vacation Boy too much, but which I am sure caused poor Bob some pain when he had to get up at 7 for work.

On Friday we headed to the Hood Canal "cabin" of some friends of Kim's to meet up with Kim & her parents, Mike & Joni. It was a gorgeous place with a very cool beach, especially at low tide when Steve & I discovered that oysters & geoducks under the sand like to squirt water up like a mini geyser and get your jammy pants wet. Kim made us puffins, her new, accidental invention using Self Rising flour in the pancake mix. They were yummy.

The five of us headed up to Hurricane Ridge in the Olympics on Saturday afternoon - a stunning place with insanely spectacular views and a great hike to the top of a mountain. The path was all paved. Even Steve, who is terribly afraid of heights (except when skiing - go figure), was able to navigate the trip without barfing & screaming.

Saturday night brought us back to Seattle and one last dinner with Kim & her folks before all us midwesterners headed back home, Joni & Mike in the morning and Steve & I later in the afternoon. What a nice vacation! (Many ginormous thank-yous to all the people who put up with us, er, put us up during our ramblings!)

Bayview RARA

After a nice Labor Day weekend at the Port Wing Fish Boil (50th) and dominating the Fall Festival 5k and 10k races, we like to head east to Bayview Lodge for some R, Action, R, and ...  Bayview Lodge is located on Presque Isle Lake in famous Presque Isle, Wisconsin.  It is the lake of Steve's youth.  Grandparents John and Della Brissee had a place there and reside there now in the boneyard.  It's a sentimental, pristine oasis of Northwoods splendor.  It has become our place to go, and chill, on an annual basis.  Time hasn't changed things much there as you can see via the photo gallery.  We manage to fill the too quick days with lots of Actionpea activities in a slow, easy mode.  We run, eat, fish, and cocktail in  a classic style.

Two weeks, next year ???