Biking Keeps Me Humble

David and I have been biking for exercise since last fall, with a lull during winter while we lived on our fat stores and supplemented any possible loss with hot chocolate, coffee, lots of whipped cream, pies, and ice cream. When the time came to come out of hibernation, we were raring to go.

Ok, ok. David was raring to go, and I was feeling like my muscles were made out of some really gooey pie. Mmmm...piiiiiiiiiiie. Maybe a chocolate pie, with a little caramel drizzled over the top. Mmmmm--No wait! These are post-hibernation legs...better make that a Coconut Cream. Mmmmm...piiiiiiiiiie...

Ahem, where was I? Ah, yes, I have always a bit on the non-muscular side. One of my illustrious nicknames in school was "Pebble" because a girl said that when I flexed my bicep it looked like a pebble was lodged under the skin. And calves? Oh, isn't that sweet that you think all humans have them! No, I had legs perfectly resembling the number eleven, descending from knobbular knees all the way to bony ankles and ski-like feet. With this kind of physical makeup in my past, it even now takes me a while to work up to an endurance level that doesn't leave me wheezing after the first mile. But, David says my calf muscles actually poke out when I'm going up hill now, so I've got to say it's worth it.

The first opportunity for developing my humility was getting passed by an older gentleman who was on foot. Granted, this was in the middle of the "hill of death," as I named it for its steep and punishing grade. On the upside, this was probably a boost to his confidence, and really, I'm just happy to be out here doing good works. Motivational cycler--that's me.

We've just recently increased our distance to between ten and fifteen miles on a new route that takes us through some very pleasant country. There we see horses of varying models, rotund cows, and all kinds of wildflowers this time of year. On the way down a very lovely hill I had my first encounter with a wasp as an adult, and one in which I ended up with more collateral damage than he (you may read about this in the previous post).

This particular exercise in humility happened as I was gaining speed down a big hill about six miles from home. I had trouble stopping while trying to rid myself of the unexpected passenger, who seemed much more calm and collected than I. I was one second away from leaping off the bike while still in motion to rip off my t-shirt and perform a couple of minutes of impromptu Riverdance on it--I did have appropriate sportswear underneath, so it seemed like a plan perfectly suited to being in the middle of nowhere with only the cows to look on me in judgment. But then I saw the couple slowly cycling up the hill to meet me and already looking at me with some amusement at the show of wild antics wherein I steered heroically with one hand while whapping myself on the back with the other. I decided against the disrobing idea.

When I finally opened the bottom of my t-shirt and flapped it to encourage my angry little pal to leave, he flew out and appeared unscathed, a large fellow who was an irate shade of orange. As I and the couple passed each other, I offered an eloquent explanation. "A wasp totally just flew into my t-shirt! He got me four times!" They laughed as they rode by, which was not really the reaction I needed at the moment. Sympathy? Horror? Shock? How about an "are you ok?" or "can we call CareFlite for you?" Well, I lived, as it turned out. Perhaps with a few throbbing spots on my back and neck, and with less dignity than before, but that just meant I had all the less to lose in my next humility lesson.

On Wednesday evening, we again struck out for a little biking adventure, and this time I was wearing a shirt with a small neck opening. Ha, ha! It's like I'm learning or something! We had gone a full two hours of biking, covering about 15 miles of hill and dale. It was a good run, if exhausting. We were almost home but my usual way of getting up on the sidewalk to go through the park was blocked by some teenagers milling around their truck, talking and laughing. I'd have to stop and walk my bike up over the curb, or jump the curb like David had just done. In my weakened mental state, I thought, "Oh, I really don't want to, but I'll just do it!"

This is one of those times where it would have paid dividends to be a weenie. As it was, I gamely got myself ready to face it head on and was so ready to feel that wheel up on that sidewalk. Instead, I didn't quite get the height that one needs to retain dignity, so my bike crashed into the curb, I crashed into the front of my bike while making a lot of sounds like "Ooooof!" "Hhcckk!" and "Unnggh!" and fighting Sir Isaac Newton himself. I'm gonna call it a draw. He's a wily old dude.

Cue the awkward moment of silence where all six teenagers are staring at me as if I had just sprouted antennae from my forehead. Once I found myself to be alive, if currently the object of unwanted onlooker interest, I got back on the bike and attempted to roll on out of there as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the chain was thrown, so after a few more awkward moments, I had to dismount and put the chain back on (I think with David's help at this point).

Cue more awkward moments. I don't know those kids, probably will never see them again, doesn't matter. Amazing how it's still humiliating, despite all of that logic! So, are developed calf muscles really worth it? Yes, indeedy.

Excerpt From The Diary of Winston B. Waspington

Introduction:
This snippet of diary was recently discovered in Rockwall County; exact location unknown.

May 4, 2008

Today I went out for my daily trip to the grocery for my dear Mrs. Waspington, as she requested that I pick up a fresh garden spider needed to complete the insect soup she planned for our dinner. I was happy to oblige, but as I was on my way, my day took a most extraordinary turn.

Without warning, I was struck by a large mammal which was perched on top of a two-wheeled metal device. It must have been traveling at a great speed, and I was barely able to get my bearings after the collision in order to cling to the backside of its neck, which was sweaty, warm, and overall a very disagreeable surface.

Before I had time to even consider how to safely escape, it tried to kill me by crushing me with one of the two long forelegs attached just below its neck. I managed to defend myself with two stings, though the second was interrupted as a second attack by the foreleg caused me to lose my grip and fall inside the large tent covering its thorax.

Once inside this tent, I could see clearly that this was designed to be a trap for such innocent persons as myself. The opening at the top was held open by the rushing wind which sucked in any victims as the creature sped along on the metal device.

Not willing to be eaten alive with poor Mrs. Waspington left alone to protect our nest of youngsters still in their pods, I gathered my courage. This time I gave a mighty jab near the base of its right foreleg where I thought it would be difficult for my attacker to reach me. I underestimated the reach of those giant, mantis-like forelegs, which now attempted to crush me in the tent material.

Narrowly escaping serious injury yet again, I dropped down and over to the other side and clung to a more stable section of material which fit closely to my attacker's body and which spanned across the back of the thorax. Undetected there, I made one more effort to save my life, and stung with all my might, down through the material and into the flesh of my attacker.

At last, my defense had worked! A secret hatch was opened at the bottom of the tent and I was able to fly out! Disoriented, but with all my wings and legs accounted for! Shaken, but alive! When I returned home to the nest, Mrs W. made such a fuss over the incident and would not be satisfied until my wings and legs were each inspected to a millimeter. We each agreed that one could not be too careful when these sort of mammals are around, and that ultimately, the best defense is "sting first, ask questions later."

Garden Crime Report: 5/7/08

Case # 542096

Officer J. Whitlark first noticed heavily nibbled collards and radish tops during a routine watering in the lower West side.

The suspects: Two caterpillars, approximately .75" in length and wearing black running suits were sighted about an aphid's throw from the community at Collard's Crest.

Case Notes:

The two suspects did not appear to trial, and are considered missing. Investigators fear that they are victims of vigilante justice, but no witnesses have come forward.


Case # 542097

Officer J. Whitlark observed the results of vandalism to one Cinnamon Basil structure on the Southern corner of Herb Square. After a shakedown, one Mr. Inchwormpants, of light green color and approximately 11 mm in length was taken into custody for booking. The primary officer on the scene noted that the suspect smelled strongly of basil and seemed disoriented.




Case Notes:

After mug shots and feeler-printing, the suspect escaped during prisoner transfer. Location is currently unknown. The suspect is armed with .77 mm mandibles and considered very dangerous. All basil should use extreme caution if encountering this individual.

Stealth Salad: Operation Spring Roll

Let's face it, shall we? Humans can only have so many salads without feeling listless over lettuce. Miles of lettuce. Endless munching. Pausing to chew our cud, we reflect on how the wrangling of lettuce leaves and the mess which ensues as we stuff untidy piles of dressing-covered leaves in our mouths can seem a smidge undignified, if not embarrassing. "Darling, there appears to be some vinagrette on your temple."

I hate to disparage salad, though, as it can serve useful roles at the dinner table--like creating a platform on which to eat large quantities of croutons, cheese, and ranch dressing. And let us not forget perhaps the greatest service of all, which is to dispense with any residual guilt which may be loitering around our consciences from the recent ingestion of cheeseburgers, steaks, and/or plates of al dente carbohydrates smothered in heavy Italian cream sauces.

To break the monotony, sneak in all the components of a clear culinary conscience by making cold Vietnamese spring rolls with an almond-curry sauce sometime. I'm going to be honest--at first, these are pretty time consuming unless you already have some mad burrito-rolling skills and a totally awesome blog to walk you through the steps. One out of two isn't bad. They become very simple over time, and the texture and flavors are worth it. Not to mention the crystal clear conscience. "Yes, I do believe I will have another pat of butter on my cheesy baked potato, thank you."

Secret Agent Parsley, pictured with other operatives:


Step 1: Locate Ingredients!

Much of this you may already have on hand, but there are a few items that you wouldn't have unless you make sushi at home. Check the recipe for the almond-curry sauce at the bottom of the post for some of these items, and don't forget to substitute wildly from your own pantry and let me know how it turns out! Or, purchase the items and plan to go nuts and make sushi at home, too! Look at you, being all adventurous in the kitchen!

Rice Paper (found in the "Ethnic Foods" section--those without wheat flour work best)
Rice Noodles (thin rice vermicelli is best)
Cucumber
Carrot
Lettuce
Sugar Snap Peas (just a handful will do)
Herbs of your choice
Mung Bean Sprouts
Whatever else you have in the crisper that needs to be consumed


2. Prep ingredients!

Have the vegetables washed, sliced--ready to go. You can use whatever you like--we typically use cucumber, carrot, fresh cilantro and parsley, green onion tops, mung bean sprouts, romaine lettuce, sugar snap peas, and even young collards. For protein, you can also include tofu or chicken.

Rice noodles take just a few minutes to cook in boiling water. Rinse them under cool water to stop the cooking process and make them easier to handle--less sticky!




3. Assembling!

I use a small plate, turned upside down with plastic wrap draped across it for my rolling station. Wet one sheet of rice paper under the tap, making sure that all surfaces area comes in contact with the water. One dip'll do--the sheet will soften as you add ingredients. For presentation, be mindful that whatever you arrange in the center of the roll will be visible when you are finished.

Cilantro is a nice start, placed upside down:


You can add ingredients in whatever order you like, but I like to play with the presentation by adding a canvas of cucumber for the cilantro, with maybe some carrot for color:


Sugar snap peas add a nice crunch and flavor:


Crisp lettuce on top of that:


Then, add some mung bean sprouts. Yes, mung bean sprouts look pretty hideously unappetizing, but they are very good and add a satisfying crunch to the rolls. Top the hideousness with pleasant-looking rice noodles (these may still be warm from cooking):


Fold over one end and bring down the upper part of the wrap. The rice paper sticks to itself when damp, so it seals itself if you help it make the right connections:


Fold in the other end. While holding the ingredients in with your thumb and forefinger, roll the whole business down on top of the front side of the paper:


Now you can see how your design worked out! Pretty, but not too pretty to eat:

You can refrigerate the rolls overnight or even a couple of days without much compromise of taste and texture.


4. Get Saucy!

The sauce that we typically have with these is made primarily with almond butter, also adding some protein. Curry, garlic, and a little chili sauce adds a great kick. Just stir together all the following ingredients (or whatever you have that seems similar enough to these ingredients). Substitute at will--I certainly do. No cooking required:

1 heaping Tbs brown sugar
2 Tbs rice wine
2 tsp rice wine vinegar
1/4 - 1/2 tsp curry powder
2 tsp soy sauce or tamari
1/4 tsp sesame oil
1/2 tsp chili sauce
1/2 tsp minced garlic
1/4 C coconut milk
3/4 C nut butter


You may need to stir the sauce again before serving:




5. Revel in a Clear Conscience!

The continuing search for clever designs and compelling ingredient combinations will be fun experimentation. I'm thinking already thinking ahead to my next batch: a little red pepper...some beet greens...some blackened ahi tuna? Hmmmm... would ranch dressing be good as a sauce? Hummus? See, people? These are the questions which will drive the planning of my next not-so-covert SaladOp.

Now, get me my creamy Fettuchini Alfredo and garlic bread with extra butter--stat!

Bok, Bok: New Digs!

Many hennish trills of delight go out to David for coming up with a character and header design for me and my teeny little world stage. It's lovely to have a talented husband on the team, and of course a chicken sporting a monocle is always good to have on board. I'm trying to decide what to name her. Henrietta?

I now also have the domain inquisitivechicken.com, which forwards directly to this blog but is much easier to remember.

Side Note: If you've never actually heard a hen trill with delight, you are missing out. Happy hens, full from grazing on green grass and a delectable assortment of bugs actually do warble in the evening as dusk nears and they settle on their roosts.

Chocolate Truffle Cake: The Obsession Lives

Newswire: Tragedy was narrowly averted late last Thursday evening in Rockwall, when J'Non Whitlark was struck by the realization that she had lost her only paper copy of a recipe for Chocolate Truffle Cake.

Dear Gentle Reader,

Oh, yes, this was the final hormonal straw in a week already punctuated by various combinations of stormy weeping and inexplicable exuberance, and I could not be consoled at this unexpected loss so late in the game. I had planned to make it the next morning for the NTBMO on Saturday evening. No Google search could find anything that quite reflected the simplicity of the recipe given to me by Michelle Rickard several years ago, though I found some hope from a post of something that looked similar on someone's blog from Sweden--pretty cool.

I hated to ask Michelle for it again...but the thought of no truffle cake I hated with all of my being. So I pleaded mercy. She, of all people, would understand the Power of the Truffle over my emotional well-being. Somehow sensing the underlying desperation beneath the veneer of a calm request for the recipe "if she had time" to look for it, she came through with the recipe just in time, and my weekend was saved!

For me, and those who profess to love chocolate, this cake is the epitome of all that is good and right in the dessert world. No added sugar, just lots of dark chocolate and a generous helping of delicious cholesterols to round out the recipe. The cake requires refrigeration after cooking. It is during this time that you must plan to be out of the house and away from the killer chocolate smells emanating from the kitchen. These smells have been known to cause mental paralysis, blurred vision, increased salivation, behavioral problems, and sweeping regret. You may want to open some windows to help yourself stay on the wagon.

Once the cake has cooled and the tantalizing aromas are somewhat contained, you get to the creative part, which your brain can actually handle since you are past the mind-altering smells of baking chocolate. I love the beautifully rich brown of the finished product, upon which you can create elaborate or simple designs using sifted cocoa powder and confectioner's sugar. For this particular cake, I was in the mood for argyle.

Truffle Cake

3 c. (18oz.) semisweet chocolate chips (or dark chocolate bars/baking squares)

2 sticks (1 c.) butter

6 large eggs, at room temperature

1. Heat oven to 425 F. Coat an 8x3-in. round cake pan with nonstick spray. Line bottom with wax paper; spray paper. Have a larger roasting pan ready and put a medium pot of water on to boil for later.

2. Melt chips and butter together; sir until well blended.

3. Beat eggs in a large bowl with mixer on high 7 minutes, or until tripled and soft peaks form. Fold in chocolate mixture until blended. Pour into cake pan.

4. Place large pan in oven; place cake pan inside. Pour boiling water into roasting pan to come halfway up sides of cake pan. Cover cake pan loosely with foil; bake 40 minutes. (Cake looks soft but sets when cold.)

5. Cool cake in pan on a wire rack. Cover and refrigerate 3 hours, or until firm. Invert on serving platter; shake down sharply to release cake. Peel off paper.

6. If desired, lay five 3/4-in.-wide strips of paper 3/4 in. apart on cake. Sift cocoa between strips; carefully lift paper. Repeat in opposite direction, this time sifting on confectioners' sugar. (You can cut out and use any other template--be creative!)
7. Resist the desire to take a bite out of the side of the cake. People will notice teeth marks.
8. Pray for leftovers

On Tax Day

Is it not a sad state of affairs when we are excited to get a tax refund? It feels like we are winning a prize or something. But that's our money we are getting back! They just had it in government coffers throughout the year and were probably profiting off the interest, which they do not give back.

But Yay!!! We got a refund! Let's go buy an awesome new plasma TV! Let's go put a down payment on a new car!

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty to buy stuff we can't afford and don't really need. Of thee I sing.

https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/rankorder/2187rank.html

Driving With Larry: A Post-Camping Story

Occasionally there is a moment when you are keenly aware of your human frailty, your incomprehensible emotions, your most unwarranted fears, and your utter ridiculousness. I will share such a moment with you.

After a full weekend of camping and alleged "relaxing," David and I, along with all of the mountain of gear that we'd stuffed in the Subaru, made our way home on Sunday afternoon. Our foreheads and noses were sun-seared and served with a side of broiled ears. These paired nicely with freshly-scratched legs and sore muscles. My exhaustion was done to a turn from the combination of two nights of sleeping bags, pushing thirty, and being an introvert among a lot of people I didn't already know very well. Did I mention the pushing thirty bit? David drove home, since he had slept like the dead until an obscenely late hour on Sunday morning, and my pillow and I settled in as grateful passengers to drowse away the return trip. Closing my eyes was so very delicious that I just leaned my head back and embraced the weariness.

All of this peace was short-lived, since a giant black cockroach had just sprinted across David's lap and was now continuing at cheetah-like speeds across the pillow on my lap. David yelled "It's on your pillow!!" Of course my heavy eyelids sproinged open nimbly, instantaneously communicated to my brain what "it" was, and convinced my body that my best defense was to shriek wildly while attempting to carry out a brilliant plan which involved simultaneously rolling down the window with my right hand, picking up the pillow with my left, and trying to shove the offending occupant out the window without ever touching him with any part of my person, since it is well-known among womankind that touching a cockroach, spider, or anything disgusting in the insect world can cause irreparable damage to the body part involved. I could have died, people. It was a big cockroach.

Did I mention we were on the freeway at this point? Oh yes, David did a manfully good job of keeping the car between the lines as his usually-calm wife thrashed violently in the next seat over and assaulted his ears with all the noises that come out of a scared soprano. Needless to say, my incredibly well-developed plan did not work, and the cockroach merely retreated from the maniac in the front passenger seat by crawling hideously down under her seat and cloaking himself in darkness and safety until he could disembark more securely.

Larry, as we called him, remained there for the duration of the trip--over an hour. I kept a wary, sunburned eyeball patrolling the perimeter for as long as I could manage, but ultimately succumbed to dozing off for long periods. These were punctuated by the occasional start and wild-eyed look around my seat and over my shoulders, with suspicious squints down at my pant leg openings. Once home, I think I saw Larry make a run for it on the driveway as I shook and pummeled the pillows that were stowed directly behind my seat. But a thorough car-cleaning this week will provide insurance, as eye-witness testimony is yet inconclusive.

Later I laughed until I cried at the remembrance of acting like such a girl about a bug--one that doesn't even bite or sting. As David says, "it's just a big beetle." This may be true. So I suggested to him that if it wasn't such a big deal, an alternative plan might have been for him to drive with his knee while rolling down the window and grabbing Larry with his other hand, tossing him out, and telling me about it later when I woke up. Hmm--sounds better than my plan at the time. At any rate, that evening was a prime opportunity to settle in and watch the movie Starship Troopers. It seemed like the thing to do after such a drive home with the likes of Larry.

"The only good bug is a dead bug."

How Do I Love Thee, Craigslist?

Let me count the ways!

You already will have read in a previous post about the extension ladder we found using Craigslist--we paid $150 for a 28' fiberglass ladder which would have cost over $300 new. Awesome. Now we will finally be able to tackle some roof repairs and some exterior trim repair and painting that have been niggling at us for some time now.

Also bothersome was having a four-seater dining table. It was fine for just the two of us, but we want to be able to entertain more often, and it seems that when it rains it pours--no guests for two months or more, and then ten at once. After issuing an invitation to three couples for dinner, it hit us that we didn't have anywhere to put them, unless we brought out the card table. Sooo, we thought we could make a table pretty easily, but chairs would still be really expensive--at least $50 each to buy, and out of the question to build.

We checked out Craigslist on a Sunday morning to just look for chairs, and instead found a table and six chairs for sale in our own city for a mere $200. We picked it up that afternoon. Amazing. We still had to bring out the folding chairs, but we actually fit eight around it. We may build a custom removable table top to be able to seat ten comfortably, but this works for now. Here are the before and after shots:

The old dining set is far more hideous than this picture captured. Imagine the incessant creaking noises when you sit down in a chair that should be firewood. The camera was too kind:


Aaaand, the dining set we found on Craigslist.com for $200. The seats still had the plastic on most of them and the construction is very solid:


Not too shabby! Have I already mentioned that I love Craigslist? If I ever got a tattoo...

Haulin' With Subie: Volume I

We do not own a truck. None of our friends own trucks. Well, and of course not, because everyone knows that if you actually are silly enough to get a truck, all your non-truck-owning friends will start freeloading immediately. Or, they might at least wait until the honeymoon's over. After a month or two, they'll figure it won't look too bad to go ahead and give you the list of stuff they need dropped there, picked up here, or carted all over creation. These lists have been brewing for years, in many cases, and are not for the faint of heart or easily discouraged. So, no one is willing to take the truck burden for fear of inevitable moochery. Instead, we drive silly little cars that are by no means in the hauling category and clandestinely create our own lists to bring out whenever someone else caves.

But then there was Subaru. Not only is this wee black WRX wagon more fun than the average car, it also can fit an amazing amount of stuff in it and on it while flying just under the radar of those would-be list makers. Home improvement projects take an awful lot of lumber and supplies, but we've been able to make it all fit, whatever it is, every time.

We've hauled numerous bags of mulch, trees with their tops poking out of the windows, loads of firewood, desks, dirt, long lengths of molding and lumber, and a whole lot of camping supplies.

Oh, we need to pick up a dining table and chairs from across town today? We like a challenge. The Trans Am even got to assist with this jaunt with carrying two of the six chairs (but I have no doubt that we could have made it work with just the Subaru if we'd been more creative with our tie-downs...couple of chairs on the table...yep).




What's that? We need a 28-foot extension ladder for repainting our exterior trim? No problem. David found it on Craigslist for $150 and I picked it up in Carrollton just yesterday. With tie-downs in front, back and on top, it didn't budge for the entire 30 mile trip. I have to admit I felt like a little bit of a show-off, what with all the big ol' pickups and vans I saw on the way home with their ladder racks. And there was little old me, trundling along in my teeny car. Granted, I didn't go above 60, and found the road noise from the ladder to be a disconcerting harmonic. But oh, how I enjoyed seeing my little red caution flags waving in the wind in my rearview! A parade just for me!


What will she haul next? With a camping trip scheduled for this weekend, and knowing my packing habits, probably everything but the kitchen sink. Not that the sink wouldn't FIT, mind you, given the right tie-downs and...