51/365: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

I love Christmas. I love the spirit of the season, celebrating with family and friends, giving gifts, decorations, and baking. I have been decorating a Christmas tree since I was a young child and had to stand on a chair to put ornaments at the top of the tree. That's because as a child, we didn't do a lot of Christmas hoopla. For a number of years, my dad and brothers put trees on a 80 foot Cyprus tree, but that was it. (and Mom didn't have to do anything with it.) So I began collecting ornaments in college. For about seven years, I put Hallmark ornaments in layaway so I could be sure to get the ones I wanted and then I'd be in line at the Hallmark store on December 26 to pick through the ones that were half price. I will not admit to you how many ornaments I have . . . I actually can't because I've never counted them. All I know is that my current tree is about 8-9 feet tall and I have a few totes still full of ornaments I don't use.

When I moved into my first apartment, I also set some strict holiday guidelines for myself. The tree goes up the day after Thanksgiving. That's to give me the maximum time to enjoy it because, on December 26, by sundown, all signs of Christmas will be erased from my house save the evergreen wreath on my front door. Again, this goes back to my childhood because we often were taking down the tree on Valentine's Day. Last Friday my tree went up. The garland and Santa were on and other decorations displayed throughout the house. But I didn't get to the ornaments, much to Bella's chagrin. She asked about them on Sunday but I was spent after the cx race. And Monday after work I was on the trainer and didn't have time to get them out to put on the tree. I was planning getting to it tomorrow.

Tonight I came home to this glorious sight. Klucker and the kids had decorated the tree for me. I can't tell you how huge this is. Klucker will put away my ornament boxes and schlep things up and down the stairs for me, but decorating has always been my realm. (In all fairness it's probably because I'm uber-picky about my ornaments, boxes, storage.) But he took the chance because he knew how much I hated to making Bella wait. And because of that, in my eyes, it's the most beautiful tree I've seen.

50/365: Scary Moment

This morning I was upstairs uploading the data from my run when I heard Daisy barking. Her "tone" was the one she uses when Diesel is in her food bowl. It went on for about 20 seconds before Boo told her to be quiet and leave Diesel alone. Of course, Daisy continued to bark. I yelled down to Boo to ask what was going on and about that time, the barking changed and Diesel's voice emerged. They were fighting. I jumped up and headed down the stairs yelling for Boo and Bella to stay away. I had instant visions of one of them trying to separate the dogs and getting bit in the process. I made it to the kitchen in time to see Klucker dragging Diesel by the collar into the bathroom. I pulled Daisy to the other side of the kitchen.

Boo was concerned because Diesel's food bowl had been spilled. I told him to pick up food and I was "lecturing" Daisy on trying to take Diesel's food. I let her collar go as I noticed a drop of blood on the floor. Just then she shook her head. It was as if I was in a CSI episode--high velocity puppy blood splatter went everywhere. I grabbed a paper towel and found the wound, the bottom of her ear was split. After attempts of pressure, ice, super glue, and cornstarch, Klucker finally got the bleeding to stop. Of course, I wiped down the kitchen three or four times during this progression.

So here is the wounded warrior. If you look closely at her right ear, you'll see the little tear. Doesn't she look pitiful?

Race Report: North County Bubba

Even with the warm temps, I had chilly ears. I love my buff. *Photo cred: Mike Dawson.

We finally had a soft course . . . a bit of mud and not bumpy! The course was primarily flat, a few 180, some PITA zoysia grass, acorns, and gravel. We had warm temps (50ish) but strong wind. We started on pavement, headed into some 180s, boggy grass and the false flat that was zoysia. Next was a quick cut through the trees to the gravel, and then into an off camber 180 before heading to the barriers. After the barriers was tall thick grass, more gravel and a few uphill 180 off camber turns. Next was downhill through leaves that quickly became a mud pit before more 180 off cambers until we hit gravel uphill and turned back to the pavement for the start finish.

We had nine in the A race today. I got a good jump off the start and stayed in the group until the first muddy section. I fell off there and spent most of the race trying to catch Cory. I caught her in lap five, only for her to pass me in the last lap on the uphill gravel section. I would say I was at lactic threshold in the false flat zoysia section every lap. The last two laps I took a gear off and just tried to spin my way through. My dismounts/remounts were average today. I was happy with the way I handled the bike through the marshy/muddy sections; they didn't freak me out as much this year as they did last. I am still hesitant on thick gravel. I probably ease up too much because I'm fearful of fishtailing.

It was ironic that the course had so much gravel today, because of yesterday's ride on the Katy Trail. There were a few thicker parts and I was careful on because I really don't have a desire to pick gravel from my knees.

49/365: The shoes tell the story. Not a ton of mud, but enough for some fun.

48/365: Let There Be Mud

We finally got rain! It rained most of the evening on Tuesday and Wednesday morning. I took the cx bike out to the Katy Trail for a little gravel grinding this afternoon. My Eddie finally has the look of a real cx bike. The good news for all of this is that tomorrow's race shouldn't be bumpy. I've been so rattled and shaken the last nine weeks, I think I've knocked some teeth loose. I know if there is heavy mud, I'll struggle a bit, but I'll take that in lieu of constant vibration.

So I had a brilliant idea post ride today. My bike was filthy and I didn't want to let it set on and then get coated in more muck tomorrow. Our hose at home is out of commission, so I took the bike, still attached to the car, to the car wash. Yes I checked for clearance before I drove in the bay. I used the spot-free rinse setting the knock the chunks off before heading home. Klucker didn't think I was so brilliant. His thoughts were that the bike was still a little dirty and now there were spots on the roof of the car. Some days I can't win.

47/365: Ahhhhh . . . Jeffrey

Meet my youngest brother, Jeffrey. He is the stereotypical middle child, although our older brother and I don't fit the birth order characteristics very well. Jeffrey is eight years older than me. Growing up I'm sure I was always the PITA little sister, wanting to be involved with everything he was doing but not nearly old enough to be included and not really getting that. When I graduated college, his life was taking some unexpected changes, and we became a lot closer. We now spend a lot of time together. Klucker and I do what we can to get him out and about and social, or just out of the house on any given weekend. He came up this evening for a vodka taste test. Of course, that included being initiated into Boo's Wii Club first. But Jeffrey's a good sport about it all and a great uncle to my wee people.

46/365: Pounding the Dough

Watching this scene unfold brought back great memories. We had Thanksgiving Dinner at my in-laws' home. My mother-in-law brought up the dough for the rolls and got Bella a stool. She had a great time pounding it down and later pulling pieces off and putting it in the pan.

My mom was not and is not a cook. She made meals for us when we were kids, but it always seemed like such a chore for her. And consequently, the food tasted like it was a chore for her. I learned to cook and bake from three very special women: Maama, Granny Fauerbach, and Aunt Lou. All three loved to cook and included me in the work in the kitchen. I spent a lot of time on a stool, mixing batters, rolling dough, and drying dishes. I learned lots of tricks and tips that can't be learned by reading cookbooks. More than that, I developed a love of cooking. I hope my kids develop that same fondness.

45/365: I Like It Even Less in the Fall

As much as I like to be outside, I do not like to garden. This is the area at the end of my driveway. My petunias are dead. My hostas are withered. There are remnants of weeds everywhere. I wish I could say that the pitifulness of this spectacle would move me to do something about it, but it won't. I can handle a few tomato plants and a bit of basil, but not flowers. I've never been one who was even big on getting flowers as a gift, so the idea of growing them does nothing for me. I make a go of it in the spring. I pull weeds, plant pansies, make a pretence of finding other plants to put in the ground. Some summers, I even add more flowers once my pansies succumb to the heat. Once I even made it so far as to put mums in the ground. This year I can't even bring myself to pull out the carcasses that remain.

When we lived in the City, I really made an attempt at having a beautiful, flowery patio. I had pots of different shapes and sizes. I hit nurseries and Soulard Market looking for great flower deals. It's good we were only in that house 3.5 years. I couldn't have kept that farce up much longer.

I keep thinking maybe someday I'll change my mind. Then I get on my bike and spend my time far more productively.