Ditch Magnet

I'm happy to report I have not cried over underwear in the last two weeks. Actually, I'm quite proud to report I didn't even cry when I had to get my van towed out of the ditch twice in two days last week. Although I will admit to calling Big E after ditch entry #2 and announcing I'd really like to just sit down in the snow/slush and cry. In my defense, it was nearly 9pm, I hadn't eaten dinner, I'd slipped off my own driveway into the ditch, I'd just fallen on the ice and it was raining.

Now that I said all that it seems ridiculous that I refused his offer to come and pull me out. Am I insane?

More likely just incredibly strong-willed. (Yes, Pop, I am admitting this.) I can handle calling my boyfriend once to have him pull me out of the ditch, but, really, twice in two days? I'd much rather let the AAA guy see me without my pride intact. At least I can avoid him for the rest of my life.

In hindsight, although I whined about what a crappy week I was having for 5 days, I am now just grateful I made it to my new job on time every day without a concussion or a missing bumper.

I should also probably be grateful Big E puts up with me, considering my idea of a fun date night is convincing him to disassemble the freezer with a torque wrench (Pop- I need some socket wrenches for my birthday.) so I can attempt to rid it of the garbage smell.

At least I let him have beer...

Got Tears? Buy Underpants.

I've always been a firm believer in making the most of what you've got.  Got rotten bananas? Make banana bread. Got a stomachache? Take it as a chance to lay around and read a good book. Have to wait in a long line? Meet a new friend. You get the point....

Anyway, apparently I'm wearing off on Big E. Our Christmas tree tipped over a few days before Christmas. No problem. He turned the whole room into a tree.

We don't have a fireplace. No problem. He found the yulelog on TV.

Which leads me to this question- do you think Santa can come in through the TV? Because somehow he got into the house and left me not the usual one, but TWO stockings on the end of my bed. Of course, these means I woke up with presents all over the bed. Thankfully the big man must know I kick all night so he didn't put anything fragile in there.

Big E only got one, but his Santa has a bit of a problem figuring out what will fit in the stocking so he got a few extra presents instead.

Really Santa? You thought that jar of pickles was gonna fit in there?

All in all, a very sweet Christmas. I was a bit sad to not have the usual pair of underwear my mom used to give me, but I made the most of that too. Turns out they put all the fun Christmas panties on sale the next day.....

Let It SNOW!

This blog started with a trip a couple of years ago. That trip started with the longing for seasons. San Diego didn't have seasons. I wanted seasons. I'm finally getting my seasons. I know some people hate them, especially winter, but for me each one brings some new adventure without ever leaving town.

Saturday night/Sunday morning brought us a little snow. The boys let me tag along on their ride. I nearly rode my legs off trying to keep up. I hung on for all of about.....one minute. I had an absolute blast making snow angels anyway.

Sunday afternoon brought a little more snow.

Thankfully I've seen so little snow in my adult life that shoveling still counts as fun. Especially since I didn't take Big E seriously when he said I should pull into the street before I shoveled all that snow off the van. So.....I shoveled the driveway twice. By choice. There was a snowblower in the garage. Maybe I could make a little side cash shoveling sidewalks?

Or perhaps the city could pay me to shovel parking lots?

Good thing Big E put a shovel in the van, because you never know when you might need to make a parking space for yourself at the trailhead. Unfortunately, I made much more progress with my shovel than I did on my bike Monday morning. Maybe I can get Big E to mount a shovel on the front of the Mini Muk?

Yes, there are boot prints next to those tire tracks. This is called push-a-bike. It's not nearly as fun as ride-a-bike, yet infinitely more fun that being indoors.

Someday I might be able to ride in a foot of the fluffy stuff, but Tuesday I opted for skis. Good thing.

 

Maybe next I'll try the hills...

Sippin' Life Slowly

On my run today, an old man hiked past me. He wore jeans and carried ski poles. Around his waist, he sported a harness attached to his dog. He jogged a bit after he passed me, perhaps to bridge a gap in case I wanted to race. He needn't have worried. I savor my trail runs. Racing them would be akin to guzzling an entire bottle of expensive scotch.

As I climbed the rest of the hill, I heard gunshots. Possibly a neighbor securing dinner for a lot of nights to come.... When I reached the top, I turned right and encountered two deer. The one closer to the trail stood frozen, one ear cocked. I moved closer, wondering if someone had placed a statue all the way out here. She refused to move. When I got close, I froze too. As we stared each other down, she twitched only once. After a minute or two I made the sound Big E taught me. Deer make this sound to warn each other, he'd said. I thought she would run, but she came closer. She seemed to sniff and then slowly pranced off with her friend.

I continued on, marveling at the amount of snow that's been made on the ski hill, scaring off some bunnies and listening to the evening sounds. The sun had nearly set, leaving the prairie with a slight glow. A crescent moon, the kind my sister and I always called a fingernail moon, was above my head. The last bit of sun and high moon gave me just enough light to finish the trail.

I turned on my headlamp for the last mile on the road, mostly so the few cars out could see me. There are no street lights out here. Porch lights are rare. As I made my way up and down the last few hills, I noticed the hot and cold pockets in the air. It was as if the warmth of the day and the chill of the night were having a little show down. By the time I ran up the driveway, the night had won.  I lingered a bit outside, taking one last little sip...

Thompson for Prez

I was driving through state number five of six on Monday and listening to the speeches on CNN radio when I came up with the brilliant idea that I should run for president. I heard the two candidates would visit eight states between them and figured if I can do six in one day without an airplane I've got one up on both of them. I mean, really, could either of them manage to drive through rural Michigan without hitting a deer, skirt Chicago at rush hour and avoid getting pulled over by one of the 1,000 cops lining the freeways in Madison (the prez was speaking) all in one day?

Of course, my presidential campaign would probably come to a roaring halt as soon as the public discovered my propensity for spontaneous nudity. Seriously, you know darn well this picture would end up on the front page of every newspaper in the country.

So I'll let that dream go for now.

Now on to the story of why, exactly, I was driving in six states in one day.

On Thursday I headed to Michigan for Iceman, a 30ish mile mountain bike race in Traverse City. After running in the rain and 40mph winds on Thursday night, riding in the sleet on Friday and racing in the snow/mud on Saturday, I figured I hadn't encountered any hail yet so I drove the four hours down south to find some. Why not make the trip complete, right?

Ok, fine, it wasn't really all about the hail.  I wanted to visit my grandma while I was close. I needed an ego boost. She's 94 and likes to tell me how cute I am. It was perfect.

So, after visiting with Grammy on Sunday, I woke up Monday morning in southern Michigan, drove south to Ohio, west to Indiana, north to Illinois and Wisconsin and finally west to Minnesota.

Maybe I should consider truck driving as an alternative to politics? My handle could be Girl Undressed....

Bonnie and Clyde Take on Hillside

Okay, fine. Mostly it was just Clyde taking on Hillside.  I wimped out on actually wearing the costume for the race. Riding a mountain bike in a skirt and heels just seemed like a bad idea. Especially since it snowed a little.

Clyde decided to wear his suit anyway so he ended up looking less like a bad guy and more like a preacher on a bike.

 Well, at least until he decided to bust out the flask.

I did brave the full costume just long enough for some post race pics.

 

(According to the crowd, I don't know how to smoke a cigarette. I'll take that as a compliment.)

Then I wimped out and put my winter boots on to enjoy a little entertainment by Evil Kenevil.

Thanks Jamie and Robin for the pictures!

Gravel, Apples, Beaches, Mohawks....

The beautiful awesomeness of October has continued.

So has my exploration of my new neighborhood by bike. For instance, I discovered the friendliest yellow lab on the planet while riding down this road. Although it's possible that he was just horny and thought I was a dog. You can never be sure. I figure it doesn't really matter as long as he doesn't bite me. I much prefer licking and humping.

I've also visited a number of apple orchards by bike, although I've yet to brave carrying home a peck of apples on my back.

Of course, the Great Lakes girl in me can't stay away from the nearby beach.

Even if it means carrying my bike over some trees:

Even that obstacle couldn't deter us from a night adventure, although I did barely avoid a fall in the river every time I got distracted by the lights on the other side. (Plus, I learned that if I bring Big E along, he'll lift my bike over stuff for me so the obstacles are much easier with him. At least for me...)

  

Of course, all of this exploration has necessitated the formation of my own personal tick inspection squad. 

Thankfully he hasn't found any yet, because he appears ready to give me a mohawk if he finds one. At least he doesn't have a blow torch....