Christmas Cartoons

Prospect Park perimeter

A wander in the sun, with a cold wind - a well-wrapped walk, but pleasant enough to stop and sit in places.

Just under 6 miles.











Photographs taken with Fujifilm point and shoot camera.



later.

Bucky

This is my neighbors dog Bucky.

Wordless Wednesday :: Schooldaze ~ Fourth Grade

Maple Aurora

I have been suffering from Aurora withdrawals again lately, since our last good showing of Northern Lights was over 2 months ago. What can I say? The last year and a half of good solar activity has me spoiled and I want more :-) This one was taken on October 25, along one of the Maple ridges in Grand Portage, MN. It is a favorite spot of mine to photograph the fall colors, but is also a wonderful spot to photograph the trees silhouetted against the night sky once the leaves have fallen.

Better Than New

When vintage bicycle collector Chris Sharp invited me to join a VCC ride in Northern Ireland, he also offered to lend me one of his pre-war roadsters and I gladly accepted. We corresponded about this for some time, and I arrived very curious what my loaner bike would be. Before the ride, Chris took me aside and told me he had something very special picked out. "I'd like to know what you think of it."





When he pointed out this bike across the yard, I admit I was a little surprised. It was certainly a nice bike. But considering some of the other machines in his impressive collection, there did not seem anything extraordinary about it: a plain black step-through with rod brakes.





"It's a 1941 Royal Enfield Sports Roadster, single speed, "Chris explained, studying my reaction. "I think you'll like it." Puzzled, I stood there looking at the bike as our group prepared to take off.






Aside from the original Brooks B18 saddle, I just didn't see anything remarkable about it. The drivetrain was in the right place. Nothing eccentric about the components. Ordinary lugwork. I didn't get it.





Furthermore, it occurred to me that riding a heavy ancient single speed with rod brakes was maybe just a tad ill advised in a hilly area with a group of people I'd never met before. Would I have to walk it uphill? Would I be able to stop downhill? But the ride began before I had time to dwell on these questions.






And that is when I learned what the mystery was, and what made this Royal Enfield so special: This bike was a rocket! A 45lb rocket, but a rocket nonetheless. It accelerated at the drop of a hat.It sailed effortlessly uphill. It plunged downhill.Its maneuverability and stability were impeccable.Riding through a stretch of rough gravel road, it rolled jauntily along as if on smooth asphalt.On top of that, the rod brakes actually worked, no worse than modern caliper brakes. "How are you liking that bike?" Chris would ask with a wink. But the answer was pretty clear, as for the entire ride I was in a state of permanent jaw-drop. How could something so old, clunky and seemingly ordinary handle like this?






Chris's theory is that this 1941 Royal Enfield happens to be an especially successful specimen of what was once known as the Sports Roadster: an upright model designed for leisure cycling, with more aggressive geometry and a shorter wheelbase than the more stately Roadster model. Raleigh made a Sports Roadster as well, as did most other English manufacturers of that time. The ladies' versions had straight step through frames, instead of the loop frames of the Roadster/Tourist bikes.





The following week, I paid Chris Sharp another visit and we went on a ride just the two of us. Once again I was given the Royal Enfield - I had to confirm whether my memory of how well it rode had been accurate. We were spectacularly unlucky with the weather that day, and it began to rain not long after we set off. Soon we were riding in a downpour, and by the time we decided to turn around, the shortest route back was 20 minutes. The rain was so bad we could hardly see in front of us.





I would never have imagined that I could ride a bike like the Royal Enfield in such weather, but it was fantastic. It handled no differently in the rain, and - perhaps most amazing of all - the rod brakes remained perfectly functional.





Really, these must be some magical rod brakes. Normally this type of brake is notorious for loss of functionality in wet conditions.







Overall, to say that I was impressed by this bicycle would be an understatement. "They don't make them like they used to" is a cliche I do not always agree with, but in this case it happens to be correct: I do not know of a modern step-through city bike that handles quite like this. Some come close, but this one wins nonetheless.






While a 1941 Royal Enfield Sports Roadster is a pretty obscure bicycle, my point is really more general. I've mentioned before that I tend to prefer the handling of vintage European strep-through city bikes to that of any contemporary version I have tried so far. In my experience, the older bikes tend to be not only more comfortable, but also faster - despite usually being at least as heavy and made of lower quality tubing. What was their secret? And why, with all our technology, can we not match - let alone improve upon - their ride quality today? It is a mystery that I would love to figure out some day.

Summer Gentlemen

I love a man who can remain well-dressed in the summer heat and humidity. The Co-Habitant is one of these impressive creatures.

Here he is, wearing linen trousers and a brushed cotton button-down shirt in 90F weather, hauling around a 60lb bicycle and looking none the worse for wear. This is on the Charles River Bike Trail, which we have finally figured out how to take all the way to West Newton (there are some interruptions that make it confusing). The landscape is absolutely idyllic.

"Gasoline Rainbow" 28

My first climb at the grade. Gas Rain is probably still my favourite line at Coolum, it's a second pitch start, steepening up after the second bolt. I took so many plunges from the crux of this route, some of them beauties with an armfull of rope out to clip, just falling into clean air.

36 attempts finally acheived a tick.





photo: Phil Box

Creative Outsourcing

Hmm, there's something different about the office this morning...



I think they've brought in some outside contractors.



"Umm, your drawings may be a little late...



... we kind of had an incident."



I guess he heard there would be no bonus this Christmas.

-----

This happened at an office in Birmingham today. Raccoons really did pee on the drawings and poop all over the desks. Animal control wouldn't come, since the racoons were indoors. Did you know that private critter control starts at about $450 per hour?!

(I didn't take these photos - Hubby's co-workers sent them to him.)

ICE...ICE...ICE

Did any of you grow up hearing that your body completely replaces its cells every seven years? This was once taught in health class – the teachers told us that we became a new person from the inside out after each seven-year cycle.

If it’s true – then after more than seven years in Austin, my own body has lost whatever winter survival skills those replaced cells once had – turning me into a wimpy weather whiner.
It’s creepy outside, and will stay below freezing until at least Wednesday, with many schools, city offices, and businesses closed for ice. This is not a big deal for most of you, but in Austin we depend on the temperatures to go above freezing during the day – a fact that affects how we landscape our gardens, the kind of windows used in our houses, the exposed plumbing systems and the kinds of clothes and shoes that we own. It may also explain why there were five men in the express line at the HEB grocery earlier… in light jackets, some in shorts, all wearing caps, and each one toting a 12-pack of beer.

Before the ice encrusted everything, I ran out to cut the iris that had budded a few weeks ago. It's in water, and still might open. I bought this two summers ago at an iris society sale, labeled as a hybrid Purple variety. The color in this photo is pretty true-to-life - that bud doesn’t look as if it will bloom purple, does it?




While this new iris may still be a beauty, it may have to be moved, because that spot calls for a purple-blooming plant. About six years ago I bought a plant labeled "Blue Iris" at a Hyde Park housewalk. It bloomed like this last March and the flowers smelled like orange sherbet.

This is one of my favorite iris plants now, but I still really want some purple ones and hope the recently planted purple ones from my friend Sophia and the new start of Pam/Digging's iris called 'Amethyst' will not take years & years to bloom.

Every year in mid-January, I stay up late and get cramps in my hands, compiling the annual Divas of the Dirt Diary. It’s not a blog – more like an impressionist ramble through the past year, with as many photos as possible. This is last year's edition. I’ve been immersed for days, with no end in sight…so for once this is a short blog post – not a class in ancient garden history!

I'll be back sooner or later!

Annie

PS
So many of you have moved to the new Blogger, but I’m still standing on the edge of the pool, shivering in my towel. Since my posts have been going in many different directions lately, the idea of tags and indexing is very tempting! Are you glad you changed over?
Do the drawbacks outweigh the advantages?
What should I watch out for?
How much time should I set aside for the transition?
Should I do this, yes or no?
All advice will be gratefully received!!

Up Close

You can see the white truck and trailer which gives a good idea just how big hot air balloons are. Balloon crews use a pickup or SUV with a trailer to haul their balloon and gandola around. Once the balloon is up and away the truck tries to follow the balloon from the ground. Of couse they use cell phones and 2 way radios to help keep track of the balloon. Some balloon owners bring their own chase crew, as the people who follow the balloon are called but some don't and the Balloon Fiesta is always in need of people to work on the chase crews.

Spending Time With the Ladies

We've been staying so busy, I'm exhausted from it. It's the good kind of tired to be sure. But my body is sure protesting all of the activity. Today we started the day with pickleball and ended it with pickleball. We are all training for the tournament this weekend so we are playing hard.



I like pickleball. Sometimes it gets a bit intense though. Playing with men adds another dimension of intensity for me. I forever feel the pressure to step up my game to hold my own with them. Since we have been to this park, the ladies have been getting up early so we can meet at the court before the guys get there. There is just something so wonderful about getting in that one or two games with just us girls. It's been a real treat for me.



In between all of the pickleball today, Diana and I had a little ladies fun doing some line dancing. Technically there was one guy there too, but just the fact she and I got to go together made it girl fun for us.

The lovely Miss Faye and Margie both taught. They both did a great job. We had fun. My calves now officially hate me for it. But we had fun.

For years and years now my life has revolved around my family. I've enjoyed it and don't regret it. Until the past year though, I'd forgotten how wonderful it is to spend time with women like this. Diana and I were trying to recall the last time we did things with just women, meaning just for fun time with them. High School was the last time I could remember. And as I recall, it was pretty wonderful back then, even with the immaturity and pettiness that goes along with a group of young girls. I've missed it.

So I guess it just feels like a homecoming of sorts to find a place for it in my life again. For all the tons and tons and tons of advice I've been given over the years in regards to being a wife and mother, I wish someone had also told me "spend time in the company of women"..."without the focus being husbands or children"...."in fact, sometimes make sure you spend time with women and never, ever talk about the husbands and children". I think it would have done my spirit a lot of good.



So glad I do have it now. Living the life this week in the company of lovely ladies in Virginia!

Christmas :: Past - Present - Future

=+==+==+= Christmas Past =+==+==+=



When I was younger, before the teenage years, my family always got together at Christmas time with my mother's sisters and brother and their families – usually at my grandfather's house.



As we got older it became more difficult for all of us to get together at Christmas - there were really too many of us to fit in anyone's home. (My mom had three sisters and one brother and altogether they had 19 children.) Then the years went by all too quickly and we all went our separate ways, some got married and had families of their own, others just went away! But as many of us that could, still got together at Christmas. Sometimes it was just Mom and her siblings, but there was almost always some kind of Christmas gathering.



In 1980, after being diagnosed with cancer and having her leg amputated, my Grandmother decided that it was time for the entire family to get together again for Christmas! My mother and I were living in rural Noble County and the township had a community building that we rented and we made all of the arrangements. By this time there were about 75 family members in four generations.



The biggest family Christmas dinner was held in December of 1983 – 28 years ago! It would be the last time this many of the family was together. I think there were only two cousins who were not able to attend. The picture below was taken at that dinner and includes almost everyone who was there. I was taking the picture. (Better double-click on the picture to see all those smiling faces!)





My grandmother is in the wheelchair (she passed away the following May), her sister Jane is sitting beside her, and my nephew Jason is sitting on grandma's lap. Jason was five years old then; he is now 33 years old and has an eight year old daughter of his own. All of those little kids have grown up and many now have families. It is more than a little sad to think about those who are no longer with us – Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Jane, Uncle Bob, Uncle Walt, Aunt Phyllis, cousin Mike, my sister, and my mother. But it is such a pleasure to think of them and remember the good times we all had together.



=+==+==+= Christmas Present =+==+==+=



Christmas this year was spent in northeast Louisiana with extended family members. Twelve of us gathered together on Christmas Eve to celebrate. After a very good dinner of spicy Jambalaya we moved into the living room to continue one of their traditional events – caroling by telephone! As each family member who could not be present was called we all joined in with a hearty rendition of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” I lost track of how many people were called... East Coast, West Coast, and places in-between as well as one couple who was on their honeymoon on a Caribbean Island (they had gotten married earlier this year) and another couple who was vacationing in Thailand! It was a lot of fun.



=+==+==+= Christmas Future =+==+==+=



Ah, the future. Wouldn't it be great to get all of my first cousins and their families together again? Some of us do maintain contact on Facebook so we have stayed in touch that way. But it isn't the same as being together, in person. Many of that next generation – the cousins' children and grandchildren - have never met some of their cousins. I'm sure that some have no idea how many relatively-close relatives they really have!



Of course, it would be a logistical (and financial) nightmare but I think it would be great fun to meet up, oh, say in Hawaii or perhaps on a cruise ship – someplace warm! Just spend a week together doing various activities and have time to leisurely get caught up on all the family news.



Written for the 113th Edition of the Carnival of Genealogy, "A Charles Dickens Christmas."

Dream Wool Cycling Jersey Concept

A number of manufacturers have come out with updated versions of the classic wool roadcycling jersey over the past few years, and I've accumulated a few. All have some nice features, but none are perfect. Yesterday I noticed one that I think might come close, and exchanged some emails with my Ibex contact Julie lamenting that there is no women's version. This ended with the people at Ibex saying they will consider it for Fall , which, in turn, inspired me to be more specific about what I envisioned. This is not directed at Ibex necessarily, but at wool manufacturers in general. It is a simple concept, and shouldn't be difficult to execute - yet no jersey quite like this exists at the moment as far as I know.





The key to my dream wool cycling jersey is a very lightweight merino fabric. And by lightweight I mean summer weight, t-shirt weight. The wool Swobo and Woolistic use for their jerseys is too heavy. Rapha, Road Holland and Shutt Velo Rapide use "sport wool," which is a wool/polyester blend that, for me at least, works nicely over a base layer in cold temps, but not against bare skin. Icebreaker adds a touch of lycra to their paper-thin wool jerseys for stretch, and I like their fabric as a possibility. But the nicest I've worn so far has been the 18.5 micron, 195g/m2 merino used by Ibex for their Indie line of jerseys. That fabric feels pretty much spot on.




I prefer cycling jerseys with long sleeves, even in summer, because this way my arms don't get burned. Also, if the fabric is lightweight enough, I actually find it more comfortable to have my skin covered in the heat than not. The combination of the t-shirt weight wool and the long sleeve length is perfect for temperature regulation on both hot and cool days.One thing to add here, is that I beg whoever makes this jersey to not do anything crazy to the sleeves - like what Swobo did here by adding seams. I have both the older (no seams) and the newer (seams! why?) versions of their long sleeve jersey, and the seams on the newer one make the sleeves constricting. Please just leave the sleeves be; they don't need reinventing.






One feature I would absolutely love to see in a cycling jersey is a 2-way zipper. I think this would be an especially useful feature for women, as it would enable us to unzip the jersey for extra ventilation just like men do, but without exposing the bosom. With a 2-way zipper we can unzip along the tummy and leave the chest covered up. I am surprised no one has tried this yet actually. The zipper should be covered on the inside of the jersey, so that it doesn't come into contact with the skin.






Women sometimes complain that cycling jerseys are unflattering, and one way to remedy this would be to tailor the jersey via shaping darts - which Ibex already does in some of their athletic tops. However, I am reluctant to suggest this, because it does introduce additional seams which for some may cause chafing. Personally I am okay with or without darted tailoring, though a women-specific fit would be nice.






In the back, all I want is the classic 3 jersey pockets, elasticized at the top. No more or no less; no bells and whistles; nothing weird. Some manufacturers have been getting clever with the pockets - adding all sorts of secret zip-up compartments for pumps and wallets, which I really feel is unnecessary, and if anything, limits the use of that potentially vast pocket space. Just the standard 3 pockets please!






As far as looks, I am open - just please keep it simple. No flowers, no swirly shapes, no faux-oriental designs, and no clever slogans. Classic colours. Maybe a stipe or two somewhere, with room for embroidering a club name across the chest and back. I love this colourscheme from Ibex, and these from Rapha (sans prominent logo), and this one from Shutt Velo Rapide - and of course these vintage beauties from Bridgestone. Less is more, and a couple of contrasting stripes go a long way.






I have not described anything complicated here, and I hope manufacturers reading this will consider producing something like it. Ibex is probably in the best position to do it, because they already have the perfect fabric and a design that comes very close. But I'd love to see more options for lightweight, women-specific wool cycling jerseys across the board. Your thoughts and input are, of course, welcome. Who knows, maybe we can make something happen.

I think that I shall never see...

This morning I had some errands to run in Columbia City. Afterwards, it being such a nice day, I didn't feel like going home - so I went to visit Grandma Jones as well as Grandma and Grandpa Dunfee. Elizabeth Helms Jones is my 4th great grandmother. She died in 1883 and is buried in the Masonic Section of Greenhill Cemetery in Columbia City. Not far from her grave is that of her daughter and son-in-law, Catherine and William H. Dunfee, my 3rd great grandparents. Catherine died in 1903 and William in 1888.

I love going to cemeteries, especially when no one else is around. They are among the most peaceful places on earth. Greenhill is a large cemetery and is usually busy with visitors. But today I was lucky, there wasn't another living soul around.

The graves of Catherine and William lie in the shadows of two large conifer trees. The trees are dying, but they are still magnificent. This first picture was taken in October .. and shows the convoluted branches of the larger tree. As you can see it was very much alive, still green. The rest of these pictures were taken today between 2 and 3 p.m. The larger tree no longer has any green needles left. The smaller, taller, straighter tree still has quite a bit of green showing. Please, click on the images to view a larger version. . .





And yes, I know this picture is weird, but I like it! Even if it does make me look bigger than I am. LOL.
Of course, I can't end this without including the poem "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer.
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
From Toucan Radio I learned that Joyce Kilmer was born in 1886, and lived most of his short life in New Jersey. He was killed in 1918 in France, in the second battle of the Marne. Before he enlisted in the army, he was on staff at the New York Times, and as a Catholic convert, wrote religious inspired poetry. He wrote Trees in 1913.