a few days up north, a few days in town… all away from the office… more soon.
Godaddy canceled my url today. With no notice. And somebody else has already purchased it. So much for this little one person blogger thingy. So, please change your links to paperandclouds.wordpress.com.
In your reader, too!
And thank you for reading.
Dinner last night was very last minute. I knew I had black beans, eggs and an onion. The rest depended on what I could find in the fridge. So I got to it. I sliced an onion and let it sweat for a while in some oil. Then I added a chopped zucchini, which apparently was still in the fridge from a farmer’s market stop last week. When both were starting to soften and the onion had that lovely sweet onion smell I tossed in a can of drained black beans and a can of chopped tomatoes. Only it wasn’t a can of chopped tomatoes, but rather a jar of pizza sauce. But by the time I noticed, the whole can was bubbling away along with the beans and the onions. Oh well. Guess this will have to work. I stirred that up while I supervised daughter as she peeled a cucumber. She’s three. It was scary. When everything in the pan looked all happy I made four little indentations and daughter and I cracked eggs into the holes. She loves to crack eggs, but only until they open up. Then she drops them into the bowl and lets out a little “euhhhh”. That’s when I take over, which is probably fine. So our eggs went in. I tossed a couple tortillas into the hot oven, combined the sliced cucumber with a sliced apple and waited until our eggs were just set. Perfect timing. Only Husband was still somewhere on the crosstown highway. Daughter and I ate together. Eating in unison, first beans on tortillas, then apple-cucumber-apple sandwiches. She drank milk, I had Merlot (full of probiotics, I hear). And Husband got there just in time.
I’ve been inspired to cook by instinct by this book.
And happy happy birthday to the amazing, and tall, Julia Child.
Have a beautiful weekend.
The temperatures have cooled.
The rain clouds have promises to stay away.
So, the race went well yesterday. After the swim, that is. I started right at the front of my wave, ran out as fast as I could, and starting swimming really fast. Really really fast. And there were no arms or legs or limbs flailing around so I just kept swimming. Eventually I realized I was either being supernatural or maybe I was off course. Guess what. Yep. I looked up and I was at least 50 feet to the left of the closest swimmer and heading right towards a kayak patrol. Crap. Not a good way to start a race. By the second turn I had figured out the swim and actually beat my time from last year. (Imagine what I could have done if I had gone straight!) The rest of the race went well, I felt good on the bike (bored, of course) and the run was hard but fun. Another runner joined me with about 1.5 miles left and told me I was her “pacer”. No problem. In fact, we even started chatting toward the end and pushed each other to sprint to the finish. That last mile is hard and it was cool to have a new ‘friend” to help me push. The big difference between last year and this year was how I felt at the end. Last year I was dizzy and had to sit down for a bit. This year? I felt great. I could talk and cheer on others and even picked up daughter a few times. Then I found the food tent. Now I need another event, another goal. Who’s with me?
“My mother always said a loser isn’t the person
who gets involved and comes in last. It’s the person
who doesn’t get involved in the first place.”
— Oscar Pistorius, the first double amputee to compete in the Olympics
In three days I’ll be doing my second triathlon. And as I do some last minute preparations, mostly mentally, I can’t stop thinking about my swim the other night. I talked my neighbor, and friend, into doing it with me, so we’ve been training together when our schedules allow. Tuesday night we biked over to Nokomis (where the tri starts) and did some swimming. On Tuesdays the local park & rec board allows swimmers to cross the lake, with the watchful eyes of a few lifeguards. This was the third week in a row that I’ve gone. I’ve always been comfortable in the water, especially lakes. But to swim across one? What a blast. And it’s amazing training. I can’t stop and fix my goggles. I can’t stop and stretch my calves or my feet. I can just keep swimming (anyone else hear Ellen?)
But anyway, the other night, as the sun fell over the beach, playground and softball fields, I looked up and saw just the silhouette of my friend. There I was, swimming on a beautiful Minnesota evening, across a beautiful lake, getting ready to do an event I never dreamed I’d be able to do. In three days I’ll prove to myself that yes, I am strong enough, physically and mentally to swim, bike and run a triathlon. And the best part is that I’m doing it because it’s fun. Loads of fun.