Thankful Thursday #36

This week I'm thankful for...

• the conclusion of the first week of school.  They're cute, but, oh man, training them is exhausting.


• my Neti Pot for battling it out with my first cold of the school year.  Breathing out of both nostrils is awesome.


• Just Because roses from Terry


• Garrison Keillor and his red shoes


• my students, even the challenging ones


• my awesome parent volunteers who are my saving grace with twenty-seven 5 and 6 year olds and no classroom aide


• my little one who turned 6 this week and told me her two goals this year are to do a cartwheel and learn to fly


• Mike & Ike's after they've been in a hot car all day


• my grade level team


• morning prayers with Terry

Thankful Thursday #35

This week I'm thankful for...

• brand new, freshly sharpened pencils


• coffee with a friend


• kayaking on the lake and the heron who didn't poop on me


• first day of school outfits


• chick flicks


• Terry, always Terry


• my amazing helpers who worked hard to get my classroom ready


• my custodians who always have a smile and a helping hand at the ready


• my new little ones who have stolen my heart in record time

Back to School, Bike Style

Remember being a kid on the first day of school?  If you were anything like me, it was a bittersweet day, the end of summer nearly eclipsed by the excitement of a new year.

You probably woke up before your alarm clock sounded.  If you were lucky, your mom woke you with a kiss on your forehead.  You'd hurry into the bathroom to brush your teeth, but only the front ones because today was not a day to waste time on petty things like molars.

[caption id="attachment_4611" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="image courtesy of bikeradar.com"][/caption]

After your teeth were clean enough and your hair combed to perfection, you'd pull on your First Day of School Outfit, laid out carefully the night before.  You'd check your reflection in the mirror and nod.  Looking good, looking REAL good.

[caption id="attachment_4612" align="aligncenter" width="449" caption="image courtesy of redbubble.com"][/caption]

You'd top off your outfit with your brand new pair of shoes, pristine shoes scant of scuff marks.

[caption id="attachment_4613" align="aligncenter" width="450" caption="image courtesy of hanyaorangiseng.wordpress.com"][/caption]

 You'd pack your lunch, a PB&J with the perfect jelly to peanut butter ratio, into your brand new lunchbox.

[caption id="attachment_4614" align="aligncenter" width="201" caption="image courtesy of pepperjackhome.com"][/caption]

You'd navigate your Trapper Keeper and your pencil box full of freshly sharpened pencils and place your lunch gingerly inside your backpack, the one you'd picked out specially, agonizing over the selection in the backpack aisle until you found the one that was just right.

[caption id="attachment_4615" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="image courtesy of newrelizingbikes.blogspot.com"][/caption]

With any luck, you'd get to school early.

[caption id="attachment_4616" align="aligncenter" width="470" caption="image courtesy of kids.nationalgeographic.com"][/caption]

Maybe even early enough to meet your friends on the playground for a little before school recess.

[caption id="attachment_4617" align="aligncenter" width="512" caption="image courtesy of littlelambland.com"][/caption]

And then you'd summon your courage and walk to class to meet your teacher, who upon first glance seemed a little nutty.

[caption id="attachment_4618" align="aligncenter" width="341" caption="image courtesy of bicycle-worldrecords.com"][/caption]

 You soon discovered that your teacher was the kind who not only loved music, but art, too.

[caption id="attachment_4619" align="aligncenter" width="480" caption="First Bike by Mary Carol Williams"][/caption]

When it came time for math, your teacher explained it in such a way that you, the kid who hated math, felt like Einstein.

[caption id="attachment_4620" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="image courtesy of frontpsych.com"][/caption]

Before you knew it lunchtime came around and nothing, nothing was such a relief as when a friend rescued you from sitting alone at the lunch table.

[caption id="attachment_4621" align="aligncenter" width="512" caption="image courtesy of alternativecommutepueblo.com"][/caption]

 After lunch and a sweaty recess of dominating the tetherball court, your teacher would lead you back into class, where you'd cool off, rest your head on your desk and maybe even nod off a second or two under the calming rhythm of your teacher's voice reading a good book.

[caption id="attachment_4622" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Me and My Bike by Ander"][/caption]

Then you'd pull out your notebook, all the pages crisp and white, just waiting for your words, your magnum opus, What I Did On Summer Vacation.

[caption id="attachment_4623" align="aligncenter" width="471" caption="image courtesy of visithollywoodfl"][/caption]

If you were really lucky, you visited the library.  The librarian, who smelled like chocolate chip cookies and old books, helped you check out a stack of books to take home.

[caption id="attachment_4624" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="image courtesy of bostonbiker.org"][/caption]

And just like that, the first day was over.  You'd race home and tell your mom all the details of the day.  And then before the summer sun settled down for the night, you'd ditch your school stuff and race out the front door to play with your neighborhood friends.

[caption id="attachment_4625" align="aligncenter" width="350" caption="image courtesy of cyclecenterct.com"][/caption]

After all, even Einstein didn't study all the time.

[caption id="attachment_4626" align="aligncenter" width="314" caption="Albert Einstein, Santa Barbara"][/caption]

Thankful Thursday #34

I'm on a road trip with my mom this week and will get back just in time to set up my classroom and welcome a new bunch of little ones, so I'll be scarce these next couple weeks, but I look forward to telling you all about my road trip and other things when I return. I hope you're living a great adventure right now, too.
This week I'm thankful for...

• celebrating 15 years of marriage to the love of my life.  Our life is so, so good.


• SHARK WEEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


• the man a couple of rows in front of me at the A's game who caught a foul ball and gave it to a kid sitting in our section


• kayaking on the lake with lots of different groups of friends


• the awesome bike necklace Abby made me

[caption id="attachment_4802" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Bike Necklace by Abby Jeanne Jewelry & More"][/caption]

• my friend who told me a story that thoroughly disgusted me and just seconds later had me laughing so hard I cried


• lunch at a friend's house followed up by her homemade blackberry pie.  That pie made me weak in the knees.  I may dream of that pie tonight.


• my very first byline

Not Just Yet

[caption id="attachment_4676" align="alignright" width="300" caption="image courtesy of vivaboo.com"][/caption]

I can feel it in the air,

I see it in the way the sun stays tucked under the covers just a little longer every morning.

I smell it the stores, in the waxy scent of crayons, their tips perfectly pointed inside pristine yellow boxes all lined up in wait.

It's in the scuffling of new shoes down the threadbare aisle of the shoe store.

The shoes, the air, the crayons, the sun are all in on the secret that a new school year is sneaking up on Summer.

As for me,

I'm staying up late to watch the moon rise, its ivory face peering down from an inky sky.

I'm picking breakfast blackberries, standing barefoot in my backyard and eating them straight from the brambles,

I'm languishing in long baths and drowning myself in good books read in bed.

I'm slipping through Wednesday morning traffic with my kayak piggyback on my car, both of us giddy to glide on the water.

The school year is sneaking up on me, inching up my spine and edging into my dreams.

But I'm in on a secret that the shoes, the air, the crayons, and the sun do not know.

Summer is ending,

But not just yet.

Thankful Thursday #33

This week I'm thankful for...

• watching the Tour de France with Terry and my stepdad, Chris


• hearing Donald Miller speak


• time to myself to think


• new bike cleats


• singing "Sweet Caroline" at the top of our lungs as Terry and I drove with the top down


• the shooting star I saw while sitting in my hot tub.  I think it was the brightest one I've ever seen.


• catching up with old friends


• morning prayer time with Terry


• kayaking on the lake in the quiet of morning

30 Days of Celebration: Day 16, A Good Man

Friday morning I got a text that Donald Miller was going to be speaking in town that very night.  Holy cats, how was it that Donald Miller, the Donald Miller, was coming to my little town and I didn't know about it?  I immediately bought myself a ticket.

What I didn't realize at the time was that he was speaking at a Moral Revolution conference.  Not that my morals don't need a little revolution now and then, but the focus that evening seemed to be on pursuing purity in one's sexuality.  And since I've been happily married like a thousand years, not everything applied to me.  Or at least not in the way I expected.

Donald Miller in his warm, self-deprecating manner compelled the women in the audience to really think about what they want in a future husband.  He did this hilarious bit on listening to your eggs, yes ladies those eggs, because they will tell you if the person you've got in mind is indeed a good choice for the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.  You can see where it didn't apply to me so much, you know, since I'm an old married lady and stuff.

Except that it did apply to me.  Completely.  As Don continued, he urged the women in the room to think about the things they want in a mate, to write them down in a list.  He specifically mentioned that women should hold men responsible for being hardworking, loving, spiritually engaged, trustworthy, honest and devoted.

I watched the ladies in the room around me mentally making their Man Wishlists and it struck me that Terry is all of those things.  And so much more.  Add to the list smart, funny, caring, financially responsible, athletic, and organized.  Just to name a few.  I sat in my chair, grinning like a fool because I knew just how good I've got it.

Not that our marriage is always easy.  Don compared marriage to climbing a mountain.  I think it's more like rock climbing, but that's another post.  The point is, marriage is work, hard work.  Sometimes exhausting to the bone work.  But it's good work.  And so worth it when you've got a got a good man doing the work with you.

After speaking, Donald Miller signed books.  I'd brought my favorite and stood in line, thinking of a brilliant thing to say to him about how much I loved his book.  Maybe I'd even tell him about how when I ride my bike, the really meaty passages keep my brain busy for hours over mountains and through plains when I'm working out the details who I want to be in life.

Then it was my turn to get my book signed.  I handed Don my book and he asked who to make it out to.  I spelled out my name.

And then I just stood there.

I racked my brain for those brilliant things that were there just a second ago.

My brain did this:

[caption id="attachment_4647" align="aligncenter" width="259" caption="Your brain is experiencing technical difficulties. Please stand by."][/caption]

Gah!  Then my brain fished way back in the recesses.  I blurted out "When are you going to bring back Sunday music?"  I cringed.  So lame.  Donald answered graciously that he'd try to get some more up when he had a chance.  'Cause he's not busy writing books and running a huge mentoring project or speaking around the world or anything.  

I willed my brain to say something intelligent or at least not demanding of his time.  As he finished signing my book, I said "Thanks for speaking tonight.  I really appreciated it.  I'm going to go home and tell my husband what a good man he is."  Donald Miller looked up at me and smiled "That will make his day."

And then I took my book and walked away before I could embarrass myself any further.

When I got home I told Terry what a good man he is.  He looked a little surprised.  I relayed what Don had talked about that night.  I told Terry that is was a really great night because it reminded me how lucky I am that the man of my dreams and the man I married are one in the same.

And because my good man deserves a good woman, I'm going to make sure I tell him that more often.

Thankful Thursday #32

This week I'm thankful for...

• the guys at Twin Six for sending a little Tweet love my way

• kayaking at night on the lake to watch the moon rise


• the pair of bald eagles calling to each other in the trees just above our heads


• the person who added an apple to my favorite statue in the park
  


• walking up the last hill on the river trail just as it started to sprinkle


• the smell of rain on asphalt


• blackberries fresh from my backyard


• my mom's banana bread recipe


• The Sundial Bridge piercing the stormy sky

The Masher Ride

[caption id="attachment_4475" align="alignright" width="247" caption="In a word this jersey is magniflorious."][/caption]

Not too long ago I bought this super sweet Masher jersey from Twin Six.  Go ahead, take a second to bask in her beauty.  I know, it's awesome.  Of course it is because Twin Six makes their jerseys out of polyester and unicorn eyelashes.  Now don't go firing off angry PETA comments at me.  I don't even know if unicorns have eyelashes.  But back to The Masher.

When Heidi over at Biology and Bicycles saw The Masher, its stripes mesmerized her and she ran out and bought one for herself.  Wherein, I mentioned that we should ride together in our new matchy-matchy goodness.  There was just one teensy problem with this idea.  A minor glitch, if you will.

Heidi lives in Wisconsin.  I live in California.

But what kind of people would we be if we let a mere 1700 miles get in the way of a good ride?

So we hatched a plan.  We'd each ride 25 miles on the same day, in our respective states snapping photos every 5 miles or so.  Then we'd share our rides.  So here's the Masher Ride from sunny California.

The Mighty Sacramento

[caption id="attachment_4505" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="The Mighty Sacramento"][/caption]

I grew up riding this trail on my pink, one speed Schwinn, complete with flowered banana seat.  My family moved here just before my 8th birthday and our neighborhood backed up to the Sacramento River Trail.

Riding this trail always makes me a little nostalgic and earlier this year when the city opened a trailhead that's a mere mile and a half from my house, I was ecstatic.  (There's another trailhead equally close to my house, but it requires playing a game of Bike Frogger to get there.  Nothing like crossing a freeway overpass with a semi just inches away to make me appreciate life in new and profound ways.)  So on the day of The Masher Ride, I set off from my house and enjoyed the smooth bliss of the newly paved trail.

The Poet of Glass & Steel

[caption id="attachment_4503" align="alignright" width="553" caption="courtesy of Chris Flentye"][/caption]

Within 3 miles of my ride, I crossed over the Sundial Bridge.  Allow me to hijack my own post for just a sec to give you a little history lesson on this beautiful bridge.  It was designed by Santiago Calatrava, a Spanish architect with an eye for artistry.  You may know him from projects like the World Trade Center Transportation Hub or the Peace Bridge in Calgary.  The fact that he came from his office in Zurich to build a bridge in my little town is amazing.  Kinda like saying Frank Lloyd Wright designed a church here, which is another stunningly wonderful fact about my hometown.  The Sundial bridge is 700 feet long, 217 feet tall and 23 feet wide and it's suspended by cables, never touching the water so as to cause minimal disturbances to riparian animals.  I love this bridge.  I love it when it's lit in pink for Breast Cancer awareness month.  I love it in the winter when my tires skittishly navigate its frosted pathway.  Calatrava has been called the "poet of glass and steel" and each time I cross the Sundial, I'm grateful he penned his vision in Redding.

[caption id="attachment_4504" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="The Kissing Bench"][/caption]

At mile 5 I paused for a moment at a bench to take in the river.  When I was a kid, I remember being totally nauseated by the teenagers that were inevitably playing kissyface here.  Luckily for The Rocket and I, it was mercifully empty the day of my ride.

Up, Up and Away

[caption id="attachment_4519" align="alignright" width="300" caption="image courtesy of everytrail.com"][/caption]

After passing the bench, I rode across the beautiful and minimalistic Sacramento Trail Bridge.  Locals call it The Ribbon Bridge because it's a stress ribbon bridge.  It was built in 1990 and was the first of its kind in North America.  It has 236 steel cables inside the bridge deck that are drilled into bedrock so it doesn't touch the water and doesn't disturb the water's flow or the wildlife.  Compared to its sister bridge, The Sundial, The Ribbon Bridge isn't nearly as famous.  People flock to The Sundial, aiming their cameras up at the sky to catch all of her towering beauty.  Nobody comes to the trail to have their picture take with The Ribbon.  She just quietly does her job.  Maybe that's why I like her so much.

[caption id="attachment_4521" align="alignleft" width="250" caption="image courtesy of REU Power"][/caption]

A quick right turn had me pedaling past Keswick Dam, a steady producer of hydroelectric power.  Of the two Dams nearest my house, Keswick is the lesser known sister of Shasta Dam.  After Keswick Dam, the River Trail starts climbing.  It's one of those long climbs where every corner reveals more climbing.  In fact, I rarely see anyone else going up this part of the trail unless I convince some poor friend to ride with me.  I've been known on occasion to invite friends under the guise of going on a ride with "a little bit of a climb".  Hey, all's fair in love and cycling.

[caption id="attachment_4523" align="alignright" width="201" caption="Don't ya' just love self portrait shots? Yikes!"][/caption]

I hit the crest of the climbing part at mile 10.  Here I am, red-faced and a little too happy to be at the top.  Wouldn't you know it, there wasn't a soul on the trail and so I snapped the horrid self-portrait shot, which always gives me no less than nine chins.  I took half a dozen shots most of them including only a quadrant of my face.  I give up.  Moving on.

Here's Keswick Reservoir.  Isn't it pretty?  And more importantly, look how not red it is.  Ahem.

[caption id="attachment_4522" align="aligncenter" width="512" caption="Keswick Reservoir"][/caption]

After the climb, I took a left and headed back toward the South side of The River Trail.  On the South side of the trail just beyond The Ribbon Bridge, I hit mile 15 where some creative person had spray painted the trail.

[caption id="attachment_4524" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Just a little trail affirmation"][/caption]

I've written about this particular graffiti several times and each time I ride past it, I like it even more.  I wish I knew the story of who put it there and why they chose that particular message and those specific places to paint.  It's got to be a great story, right?  Let me tell you, this tomato-faced girl loves hearing that I'm beautiful, even if it's from the very pavement I'm rolling over.  I think it's impossible not to ride over the words and smile just a little bigger.

The Monolith

[caption id="attachment_4527" align="aligncenter" width="393" caption="The Monolith"][/caption]

A few miles later I crossed back over The Sundial and did a little loop by the river which brought me to The Monolith.  The Monolith is the site where gravel was processed for the building of Shasta Dam.  In this shot, you can see the rust colored high water mark.  In 1940 floodwaters rose to this height before the Dam was built.

[caption id="attachment_4572" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="A Cubic Yard of Concrete"][/caption]

A 9.5 mile conveyor belt hauled the gravel to the Dam site.  The Monolith closed in 1945, but in 2005 Seattle artist Buster Simpson turned it into a museum of sorts, telling the story of the workers and their role in the completion of the Dam.  This shot shows how much concrete was mixed to build the Dam.  Can you imagine enough concrete to lay a sidewalk encircling the world?  Now that would be a cool bike ride!

The Eagle Has Landed

After visiting the Monolith, I headed back toward the new trailhead.  The new trail passes between the highway and a quiet little inlet.  The inlet is surrounded by greenery where a pair of bald eagles have chosen to nest.  The couple returns every year to the same spot to lay their eggs.  The eagles are named Patriot and Liberty, and even though I'm terrified of birds, each time I pass by their nest, I can't help but take a peek.  In fact in the Fall you can take a peek, too, when the eaglecam is up and running for another season.   Just look at the nest.  It's so huge and beautiful that it sent shivers down my spine and made me pedal home just a little bit faster.

[caption id="attachment_4575" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="image courtesy of redding.com"][/caption]

Home Sweet Home

Mile 25 found me pulling into my driveway just as the heat of the day began to rise off the pavement.  I set my bike down in the lawn and unstrapped my helmet, amazed at how much beauty and history is just a short bike ride from my front door.  I unzipped my Masher jersey and smiled at the thought of Heidi riding her own 25 miles in Wisconsin.

30 Days of Celebration: Day 15, Bike Humor

I know I've written a lot about my LiveStrong Davis ride, but as my brain returned to its happy spongy state I started to remember funny things from the day of the ride.  So today I'm celebrating the fact that even when I'm in the hollows of a major Pain Cave, there's still room for a good laugh.

Lance Armstrong started off the ride by talking to us a little about LiveStrong.  The team Fatty mention and the idea of turning LiveStrong HQ into a pie shop made me smile.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=XPTA8FW9acw

The ride was on Terry's birthday and the night before I'd decorated his number with birthday stickers so that during the ride Terry had to hear "Happy birthday!" over and over again.  Did I mention Terry hates it when people make any sort of deal about his birthday?



Then there was the guy who had a mohawk glued on his helmet.  I'd talked to him at several points during the ride, but the most memorable was when I ran into him at a water stop.  He noticed that my 'good for one free beer' tab was tearing off my ride number.  I told him it wasn't a big deal because I don't drink.  Without even hesitating he said "Well, you don't have to beg me to take it!"  and ripped it off.  I thanked him for taking care of it for me.  He nodded his mohawk in my direction and sped off saying something like "I'm here to serve."

After the ride I was gobbling down apple pie when Carlos, a hilarious Fatty from New York, told how he hung with the fast group until the hills where he was ejected like "peloton diarrhea".  Bike humor and potty humor all wrapped up in a nice little package.  Comic genius.