Tchotchke Row!

Three days into Summer Vacation and we've come this far.  It's time for the grand opening of Tchotchke Row.  Have you ever read those stories about families in which the parent is more excited about the activity than the children?  This may be one of those cases, but if we can share just a little bit of our junk with some kid walking down the street before it goes to landfill, I consider Tchotchke Row a huge success.  Not sure what the OP Police Department has to say about this, but really, every kid in town is selling some sort of priced up sugar water made from a can calling it lemonade.  Can't my kids sell some old toys sitting in the basement two steps away from becoming an item in a collage project?

Misspellings abound--will correct after rainstorm!

 The egg carton is the donation bin. I'm thinking about throwing some change in there, so people will know where they should leave their coin. But of course, free is also an option.  Maybe it should be I that is paying kids to remove junk from our lawn.

It's Tchotchke Row! Maybe you want a little knick-knack?  

 All I know is that I'm sharing a little bit of my own insanity & obsession with the kids.  What better way than to spend a summer's day.

We have knick-knacks, and are willing to share!  You never know what you might find...

...on Tchotchke Row!

The Furnace of Wind (TOMRV) --Andrew

How can I begin to say anything about this fabulous weekend? What ever I come up with will fall so far short of what I'm trying to communicate. So. Here. Goes.  It took me over two hours to get lost then find Jilly's and hubby's house, tucked away just outside of small-town Illinois.  Idyllic. Beautiful day, metal bike sculpture, outbuildings, greenery, vistas, fantastic.  And great big smiles from my companions in hurt. Two of us novice, two veteran TOMRV riders.  

Naturally, the Subaru fits right in with no problem, whatsoever.

Andrew, Jilly, Me, Colleen.

 We set off for Port Byron Illinois, which sits right on the mighty river, herself. The Mississippi.  An amazingly beautiful evening, with a house band, even.  It doesn't matter that the music was too loud, or that it wasn't great, it was summer & the weather was going to deliver us a 200 mile bike ride with no rain, no thunder, no cyclone.

Band, river, no bugs, warm summer night, americana. What else do we need?
Maybe a Portobello Sandwich? Check.  We're happy.

 Friday evening we couch surf with two of the nicest people around.  Life long cyclists and tandem-ists, these two own oodles of bikes and ginormous cred in the cycling world.  Ridden across country, across Alaska, across France, across Illinois.  These two own a load of tandems and were riding this weekend, of course.  I love meeting new people!

Check out the wind chime? Cyclists, through and through.

Looking at the sunset over the Mississippi.

Dawn on the Mississippi.

I'd say that as I experienced beautiful scenery and friendly folks, my spirit was pretty lively.   I tried to conserve energy, hydrate, fuel, and enjoy the view.

Andrew takes great photos on the fly. I'm impressed & happy.

We're about to cross the mighty river for the second time. Don't look down, through metal grates about sixty feet above the river. Looked fantabulous.

 Day one, it's a scorcher by mile 75 or so. We're eating popsicles and admiring the shade.  I comment that it feels like a Colorado summer day.  No humidity, hot in the sun. Lovely, but challenging on a grueling bike course.  Jilly says that the ride doesn't start until mile 75 and yup, she's right.  But by the time you ride 75 in 90-plus degree heat, you're already toast.  The final 30 or so was brutal, but we finished, proud and sunned.

I love this weather!!! says our fearless leader.

And so we survive day one.  It took a while. A tremendous amount of climbing, volume, and heat, but we're sated and gearing up for tomorrow. Nothing a night at Best Western and great big meal won't cure.

If only the hills and wind and urgency of the ride hadn't stopped me from taking more photos...but alas, I wanted to ride continuously, so my day two shots are limited. This is one of the few towns that opens up onto the river, we see commercial area, beautiful houses, lovely morning.  It's before 10AM and we think we have a shot at this. 

 After a night at Clayton College in Dubuque, we're off.

OK, yes, I'm addicted to dereliction. What can I say? How sad and profound this building on our river?

By the time we get this far it's past lunch.  The break-off point of the day is Preston, Iowa, where some people are actually finishing their weekend at 46 miles.  We've got another 43 miles, because our car is at the college where it all began, in Bettendorf, Iowa.  The last 43 miles hit us with a headwind that would slay the most mentally tough of athletes.  Thank you thank you that I was riding with two friends who were willing to team up and pace line the whole thing (our friend, Colleen, was super smart and didn't ride Sunday--but will next year!).  So there we were, it must have taken another 3-4 hours, my brain was so fried by the end of it all I couldn't calculate.  I'll close with a snippet of a lovely piece that Andrew wrote to a friend the following day:

our second-to-the-last-rest-stop mile 62 or so?

From Andrew:

"Yes, the tailwind was nice Saturday, but Sunday, turning left out of Preston into the furnace of wind, with miles and miles of straight flat road stretching ahead, dead into the wind, was depressing.  I just put my head down and kept track of Jilly's back axle and tire, keeping at most a foot back without crossing wheels.  I talked to myself to keep focus, reminding myself of how much I would not like to crash.  With my best wheel sucking, I was barely able to hang on.  At my first expression to Jilly that I was fading, she graciously asked what speed I would like.  I suggested 12 mph, and she obliged.  After a bit, I requested 11 mph, and found that I could hold even drafting, energy-wise, at that pace.  I also dropped back behind Karen, who was just as steady as Jilly, but sat up a bit taller.  Note that just about anyone sits up taller than Jilly when she's down in her aerobars.

I perked up (relatively speaking) at the rest stop in Elvira, and was honored that Jilly would accept my offer to pull for a few miles, and I was comfortable at 10 miles per hour.  It was good to feel useful and help the team, however briefly."

Hoot-n-Holler it's Healdsburg in July!!!

So before I write a mammoth post about last weekend's  TOMRV bike tour, I have to share a delightful story that I stumbled upon amidst the epic weekend.  Friend Jilly introduced me to a woman that she describes as knowing "since we were three" and having done triathlon and ironman for just as long.  A kindred soul, indeed.  Long time Ironman-er, PE teacher, and lover of life. 

Nancy's the gal second from the right (from her blog)

 Nancy also blogs about her terrific adventures, most particularly her most recent attempt to complete one marathon in each state...yes...one marathon in each state.  Fifty marathons? Holy Moly, Macaroni!   Jilly kindly introduced me as having done "a fistful of Ironmans" (Jilly has raced in all ten Madison Ironman and at least one other (Kona), probably others along the way.  So Nancy, it turns out, gets to chatting with me about where I've raced Ironman.  Canada (yes, both of us) and Vineman, back in the nineties.  I ask which year, and she can't quite remember, but shares with me that she is trying to prove she raced Vineman, so she can check California Marathon off her list.  I shared with my newfound friends that I might have evidence of her race results and their jaws dropped. "You save that stuff?"  I replied, "Not always, but I have a scrapbook, and I saved results from Vineman, back in the day when you waited a month or more for hard copy of race results rather than instantly available on the web."  So sure 'nuff, I go home and start plowing through my scrapbook, and there it is, plain as day, the second year I raced Vineman (1995) Nancy was there along side me.  In fact, our run times were only seconds apart, and our swims pretty close as well.  What a thrill! It's been seventeen long years since then, many life events, and here we are, still plugging away at a sport that has exploded in scale, popularity, expense, and everything else.  True Believer, Indeed!  Nancy looks absolutely terrific and is as charismatic as they come. 

Vintage Ironman:Northern California!

upon close inspection, tri-geeks, you might notice my tendency to explode on the run is long standing, but not terminal.

So much to notice in this old race packet.  The small number of sponsors, primarily local companies, somewhat related to healthy lifestyle.  Small number of participants.  20 female finishers, total, and this in an Ironman Hawaii qualifying race!  One of my fondest memories of those old times was that not only was there a reasonable shot for some of these awesome athletes to qualify for Hawaii, but the Kona slots were distributed at the awards ceremony, at which one must be present to take qualifying spot.  There was always one magic slot, a lottery, so to speak, reserved for one finisher of the complete Vineman.  Just think. Someone finishing late in the day, or with a not blistering race, by virtue of finishing Vineman and attending the awards ceremony, at which point they could applaud the age group podium finishers, this person could gain that coveted spot at Hawaii Ironman.  A reason to finish the race on what always is a tough day.   I remember whomever won that spot, they'd holler out from the rear of the Healdsburg Theater, where the ceremony was held, and it was truly the most exciting time of the weekend.  Those were terrific times!!!

You make the call: perfect garden? perfect chaise?

That trellis is falling down. Must. Replace. Trellis. 

 OK, it's been a great year at school and all, but I'm so ready to be done with it. In fact, today, our last day at school, was an opportunity to clean up some equipment, help the Prairie kids get their ice cream machine working, spend some time in Ashby's classroom, and say goodbye to the guys in the basement (read: hard workin' men at an old fashioned Catholic church...space in the basement? use it!!!!).  I'm already home, packing for my weekend adventure, but not a minute too soon to blog real quick about the shawl-turned halter that I just finished last night in time for our fifth grade graduation.  This is a sample of working the pattern as it goes...in the world of crochet, you never, never, know for sure what you're going to end up with.  An example, also, of pre-blocked work (Yes Doris Chan, I'm humiliated to admit, but on this perfect weather afternoon I wasn't about to go into the basement to block the thing).  Post-block pictures available sometime this summer.  Will save that for Ravelry.

 Oh, who the hell cares!!!

 So, another crochet project checked of the list.  With a newly opened schedule, I hope I won't spend the summer in a chronic state of fatigue post-workout style.  I've got a pile of yarn and other projects that are calling me as loudly as the open road.  And so, it's another attempt at the ol' balance principle.   We'll see how it goes.  There are also family responsibilities, cleaning, yard work, braces, and so on and so forth.  Wishing myself many, many, many more moments like this in the free aluminum chaise lounge from the estate sale two doors down.  I love free stuff, I especially love free stuff that never went in our car!
So the ol' life-coach in me also says: I'm not just wishing myself these hours in the chaise, I'm wishing it for you.  We all want that perfect yard/house/bedroom/body, but to hell with it. It's summer, here in the midwest. Enjoy every bug-free outdoor moment available to you. We've earned it!

This delightful pattern is painfully easy, 7 chain, one single crochet!

Here's Proof! Braggebration Time!!!!!

The other day I was out running, after a fairly hefty weekend of training.   I was out for a long run following a spritely forty mile ride with the guys.  Towards the end of my run, I saw one of my heroes out starting his own brick. I could see the surprise in his eyes, along with a bit of respect that he was throwing my way.  Perhaps I don't really listen to what I'm saying when I talk to my friends. I spend so much time talking about recalibrating my life, work, time with the kids, slowing down with age, and so on, that I don't celebrate that I'm still tough (or would that be bragging?) OK, braggebrating that I'm tough!!!!

So here we go, proof, quite literally, that I'm still out there doing Triathlon. In fact I think Galena was something like my 45th triathlon, but who's counting? 

The Galena Sprint Triathlon, May 2012:

Photographers, found at every modern sporting event,
lest we want to drop a dime on real live documentation of
our muscles, tans, and hot racing suits!

The UW Does it Again!

Kayak Goddess Alison, teaching my little kiddies!

So what did we do for our holiday weekend?  We hauled out of town for the now-legendary WMCKA Kayak Symposium (hosted by the Western Michigan Coastal Kayak Association). Three days of fun, friends, and water!  It was just the three women, so a number of people here in town can attest to the wanderings of the Unencumbered Man, but I can't say I was witness to that phenomenon.  As for the women, we rocked the lake.

And this, only the first day!  Missed photo-op on day #2 & 3.

Ashby overcame some first timer anxiety, Addie took it to another level. We all returned wanting more.  More summer, more water, more kayak, more camp. Good thing it's in our near future. We love it!

Next step? Paddle surf. Of course!

If you think I probably stuffed my bike into the rear of the van, you're wrong!  I threw my running shoes in, and got out a few times, but mostly, besides admiring my children, talking to friends, and crocheting (and other camp duties), the Unencumbered Woman prevailed once again.  If it's a holiday weekend, or a sunny day, or anything even resembling an excuse for leisure, seize the moment!

It's about time!

Not a moment too soon.

Day 4?  Pack it up, girlfriend. Everything ends...sniff sniff.  Here's one of the Kayak Goddesses, herself, Mary Colleen.  Mary is the go-to-tie-the-boat-to-the-roof-woman and we are carrying an extra boat home...no, we didn't buy a new kayak.

See this rope? It's so if the kayak falls off of your car, it'll just hit you, not someone else...

The family at work and play.

A lovely Spring day.  We're all outside, taking advantage of the warmth, sun, absence of mosquitos. Life is good.  I've just put the finishing touches on Ashby's celery shawl to match mine.  It'll be a hit!  And on to the lawn.

What should we do about this?

Alas.

Impediment.