All Grown Up

Our furry little wonders have finally moved on :) They're still adorable...

Two days before they disappeared...

The day before they left...

I Survived Bike to the Bay 2011

This weekend was Bike to the Bay for the National MS Society.  Prior to the event, I was mildly terrified of how it would go.  150 miles on a bike is a LONG ride, considering the longest ride I’ve gone on was 42 miles.
We set out with my Mom and Aunt on Saturday morning.  Got to the race site a little after 6:30 and started riding around 7.  I remember that, 35 miles in, I was feeling amazing. We were doing a decent pace—somewhere around 14-15 mph.   For the duration of that day, it was my boyfriend and I riding at our pace alone (definitely have learned my lesson about drafting after Sunday….)
By mile 55, I was starting to feel miserable.  Could not get comfortable.  There was one point that I just wanted to get off my bike and throw it in a ditch.  I felt bad for my boyfriend—about 15 miles from the end, I got grouchy. Quiet and grouchy.  Silence makes for an even longer ride… 
We got to Port Clinton around 2:15 and crossed the finish line.  Over 5,500 calories burnt, 5 hours and 33 minutes in the saddle and a total distance of 80 miles.  My legs were sore beyond belief but ended up feeling better after being off of my bike for an hour or so. 

We went to Put-in-Bay for the evening, picked up some wine from the winery on the island and got dinner.  Got back to the hotel and crashed—75 more miles to go in the morning!
Sunday I started out excited.  The soreness from the day before was completely gone.  After about 20 miles, we  met up with a group of bikers that were going at about the same pace we had been going.  We joined on and made their crew of 8 turn to 10.  There were periods of time that the group grew to 20-30 people.  It was impressive.  I fully understand drafting and don’t think I would have made it on Sunday without that group of people—not just for the sake of helping break up the wind resistance but they were able to help get my mind off of the pain… heck, we played eye spy for about 10 miles.  Immensely helpful.  Day 2 we rolled across the finish line at about a quarter after 1.  74.9 miles, just over 5 hours in the saddle and a bit higher of an average pace. 

I’m glad I had the opportunity to ride this year.  It was a great experience.  Not 100% enjoyable at all points of the ride, but the people I met were great.  My boyfriend had told me that they sent out a survey a few years back—the results of it said that the average age of the riders was 58—to me, that’s impressive.  I can’t tell you the number of elderly people that put me to shame while riding.  I hope I'm in that good of shape when I get that old...
Will I do it again? Yes.  Definitely.  It’s a worth-while cause and amidst all the pain, I really enjoyed the experience. 

Again?!?!?!

Sooo… earlier this year, a pair of rabbits decided to have their offspring in our front yard.  It was a slight headache keeping the dog away from them and then caring for them once they had been abandoned.  I enjoyed the opportunity and felt horrible when the little guys didn’t make it.  Thought that this would be the end of baby rabbits for the year.
I was wrong.  I get the references about rabbits and reproduction, now…

The girls noticed that the pair of rabbits had been hanging out in our yard—one of them dug a bit of a trench in the front yard.  Hadn’t seen the rabbits for a while and then, two days ago, our basset hound was in the front yard, standing over something.  There was fluff around and, upon further investigation, yup—a rabbit’s nest.  Haven’t yet figured out if our dog would eat the little guys or is trying to protect them… either way I don’t trust it.  He is, after all, a dog with hunting instincts.

The little bunnies almost have their eyes open. If they can survive a few curious dogs and aren’t run over by the lawn mower—they’ll actually make it.  There’s this giddy feeling I get when I take a moment to go check out the babies… when you uncover the nest, they start popping around and are so darn cute.  I find it bizarre that I don’t get this feeling with babies… but give me kittens or puppies… or any other form of young animal and I’m in heaven.

Here’s wishing them the best…

What a Weekend!

Summer seems like it is starting to fly by.  Every other weekend I’ve spent at my house in Columbus working on projects to get ready for moving back in – and having two roommates for fall.  The weekends that I won’t be in Columbus, we have weekend ‘vacation’ activities planned.  Before I know it, fall will be here.  I’m excited yet terrified.
This past weekend was… well… let’s just say if I didn’t have to re-live it, I’d be okay with that. 
Friday night I spent relaxing with my boyfriend.  We went for a 20 mile bike ride (to his grandmother’s house and back).  I’m glad we got to see her.   She’s just as witty as my grandmother—whom I miss seeing on a regular basis.  Life and being four hours away hasn’t helped that.  I am hoping to spend a few weekends home this summer.

Saturday I headed to Columbus.  Met my mom and went for a 24 mile bike ride.  It was storming for nearly the entire ride (which, I have learned that I absolutely love riding in the warm rain).  Three miles into the ride, I had turned around to let my mother know that we would be turning relatively soon (within 30-40 feet).  Silly me thought she saw the riders turning our way and the sign that the trail was turning (this was during the only rain-free part of our ride… so visibility was clear).  As I turned my head and turned my bike a bit, she came full-force into my back tire.  Hit the pavement.  I feel horrible about it—and more so because she’s also riding the 150 miles in Bike to the Bay with me and my boyfriend this weekend.  Mom is okay, I think.  She was scraped up a bit and said that her wrist hurt (but not badly enough to be sprained or fractured, she said—my father is making her go to the doctor today because the swelling hasn’t gone down).  We finished the ride, she came to my house to dry her clothes and then she drove home (mind you, her house is 3 hours away from Columbus). 
I started working on projects at the house—started cleaning a little and got some projects started that, to finish, required a trip to the hardware store.  I got ready to head to the hardware store and couldn’t find my keys.  Then it hit me.  Before we went riding, I had thrown my keys in the glove box of my mom’s car.  That’s where they were.  Three hours away.  I called my parents.  Called my boyfriend (he offered to bring my spare set down), tried to borrow my sister’s car for the night (to no avail), called my parents back and agreed to wait it out till they brought the keys back on Sunday.  I then proceeded to have a slight emotional breakdown (this isn’t the first thing I’ve blatantly forgotten over the past few weeks).
My parents decided to drive them down to me that night.  I finished projects that I could do without a Lowe’s trip… poured myself a glass of wine, cut the grass and pulled weeds.  Went inside to clean up and relax until my parents got there—the internet wasn’t working.  I spent nearly an hour and a half on the phone with AT&T discussing what was wrong with my modem, running diagnostics and eventually determining that they needed to schedule a time for a technician to come out. Not my night.
After they left, I crashed.  Overslept in the morning but felt as though I deserved it.  Drove to Lowe’s (which, I learned my lesson that no, I truly don’t know where some back roads take me… and it’s not worth driving 12 miles out of the way to go to the store…), got drywall mud and paint.  I’m a ‘pick the paint color based on its name’ kind of person (bedroom color: cream in my coffee)…  Painted and mudded… waited on my sister to stop by to drop her cat off (we are cat-sitting till the 4^th of July) and then headed to drop off my dog with a friend.  I’m avoiding discussing my professional life (at least currently) on here but, long story short, I was not granted the day off to take my dog in (and stay to shadow) for her to have surgery.  The fact that I’m not going to be there (or that I am not even able to drop her off/pick her up) is killing me.
Drove the two hours back home with a cat that hates car rides and our basset that wanted to play with the cat (thank goodness we had a carrier!).   I was physically and emotionally exhausted.
I’m having a difficult time focusing on anything today—heck, I’ve had issues focusing on anything since my boss told me that I wasn’t able to take my dog for surgery.  I know my dog is in excellent hands, I just wish I could be there. 

Bike to the Bay

So my boyfriend, my mother and my aunt are two weeks away from a challenge.  We are riding 150 miles for multiple sclerosis. 

Since registering for this event, I have gone through many mental and physical challenges, but none equivalent to some of the stories I've read about from those that have MS. 

The most that I can do is to help raise awareness and raise funds to promote research for finding a cure to this condition.   That being said, we have two weeks to the ride and are pushing every avenue we have to raise our goal: $2,000. 

I know that the economy is trying and asking anyone for any kind of monetary donation is a challenge, but every little bit helps.  If you are willing and able to, please take a second to support the cause and donate toward our ride.

Thank you.

Llama Llove

So I had mentioned that I found a woman that raises llamas who lives nearby.  I had e-mailed back and forth with her and finally had the opportunity to visit her farm yesterday.
Wow is all I have to say.

Her house is nestled back in the woods off a country road (someday I can picture myself having a place similar to hers).  Beautiful house and barn.  We met her on the front porch and she asked if we wanted to go check out the llamas.  Of course!  (I had two of the girls with me—they were as giddy with excitement as I was). 

She took us to the fenced in area where the llamas were and I had thought that we’d just be saying ‘hi’ to them from outside the fence. Nope.  She opened the gate and we all walked in.  They are such peaceful and curious creatures.  She started explaining ages and when they had been shorn… a bit about the fiber… I really don’t remember much of the conversation (and I feel horrible about it) because my mind just went into cuteness overload (the following pictures are courtesy of one of the girls… I must say, her photography skills are improving :) )

We spent a few minutes in with the llamas and then she took me to the house to show me some fiber she had for sale.  She had white, brown, black, some dyed stuff, some blended llama with angora… I don’t think the girls understood how excited I was just to see (from their perspective) bags of fluff.  I was invited inside to see some fiber that she had just shorn and was about to send to the mill—absolutely love the grey that she has—she offered to set some aside for me when she gets it back from the mill.

While she was weighing out my fiber, we started talking—I know there were times in the conversation that she had to have been thinking I was some blubbering idiot because I couldn’t make sense of anything I was saying.  I was beyond giddy and could not calm down… (same experience happened when I met Jack Hanna… that’s a story for another day).  She started asking me about what kind of wheel I had, what kind of fiber I liked, all sorts of questions and I just had a gigantic mental brain fart.  I made myself look like a total fool, but that’s okay. 

I guess her son is a third year in vet school at Ohio State—she told me to hunt him down if I ever need more fiber while in school because she can get it to him easily. 

I left there with a pound of brown llama fiber.  Call me boring or traditional, but I absolutely love the caramel brown color that she has.  It’s beautiful.   Wanted to spin last night but one of the girls’ softball games went into extra innings and we didn’t get home till late.  Oh well.  There will be plenty of days where I can spin…. :)

We Be Jammin’

I love strawberries.  A lot.  That statement needs clarification, though.  I love strawberries fresh from the field.  I spent the summers when I was growing up working as a field-hand for an amazing family farm.  If you are ever in Northeast Ohio, stop by and visit Brungard’s Farms—they have amazing strawberries and sweet corn.

Anyhow, this weekend, I had the opportunity to visit a farm in New Albany, Ohio—Doran’s Farm Market.  Got a chance to pick our own strawberries (something that I’ve missed doing for quite some time).  There’s nothing quite like the smell of your hands after picking in the field for a while.  That faint strawberry smell ranks up there on my list of comforting smells.  The rough leaves of the strawberry plants leave your hands extremely soft (especially after a week of picking).  It’s an experience that I truly believe everyone should have.

We picked in the field of early glows.  These are by far the best berries for making jam.  They are one of the earliest berries to ripen—we got to the farm and by this time of the year, their early glow field was nearly done producing (the farm opened to the public for picking this past Thursday—if you want good jam berries you almost have to have a personal connection with the farmer to get in the fields early).  I don’t know how many quarts of berries we got—I can tell you it was roughly 19 pounds—some of those were destined for eating. 

Almost annually I make jam.  Most years it’s just strawberry.  I’ve tackled blueberry, raspberry, pineapple (if I never do that again I’m okay with it), and peach.  It’s usually a one person ordeal—I’ve made it with both of my sisters before and also with my mother… our techniques for jam production are all different, which is why I think we all prefer to work alone.  I absolutely love jam-making.
I started making jam Sunday night at 6 and wasn’t done until 11:30.  My sister’s estimate of the amount of jam that would be produced was a little on the low end.  I managed to do five and a half batches (to give you some perspective, that’s 38.5 cups of sugar and 27.5 cups of crushed berries).  I thought

I had enough supplies at the house to finish the job but ended up making a few trips to the store—ran out of jars and then ran out of sugar.  It took me nearly an hour to de-stem the berries.  Usually I them by hand but this year, due to the sheer volume of berries, I busted out the immersion blender (I’m not a huge fan of large strawberry chunks in my jam). 

At the end of the night I had sixty four jars.  49 six-ounce jars, 13 four-ounce jars and 2 sixteen-ounce jars.

What do you do with sixty-four jars of jam, one may ask.  Christmas presents!  I cannot tell you the amount of people that ask for jam for Christmas.  I have a verbal agreement with anyone I’ve given jam to that, if they return the empty jar to me, I will refill it.  My grandmother does the same thing.  Every Christmas I look forward to my jar of elderberry jelly from her.  It’s my all-time favorite.    

Too soon for my liking...

My problem child is at it again.
Early on, Maggie’s back legs were looking like they were showing signs of improvement.  The left leg (one that has recently had surgery) has been healing exceptionally well.  Went to see the veterinarian for a re-check and were told that things were going great—no swelling, no abnormalities, everything’s healed.  Apparently, with the surgery she had, there is a high likelihood that her leg would have a bit of outward rotation.  Maggie’s leg hasn’t shown signs of that.
After the vet check-up, we started to gradually increase Maggie’s physical activity (mostly- we just let her jump on the couch…. For a 50 lb dog, it’s not really a large jump…).
Monday, she took a turn for the worse.  I don’t know what happened—all I know is that my dog cannot walk properly.  We were at my house in Columbus.  The dogs (Junior and Maggie) were outside chillin in the sun.  Maggie usually lays at the end of the yard, sunning herself.  Right before we were about to eat lunch, we called the dogs to come in.  Junior bounded into the house… Maggie was nowhere to be found.  Walked outside and that’s when I saw her tripod stance. The “good” leg was tucked up and she didn’t want to come in the house.
Great.
Surgery will not be done until at least 7-8 weeks after leg #1 was done.  Here’s hoping that the weeks between now and her surgery date fly by….

Gardening!

Our garden is starting to come along (mind you- these pictures were taken pre-this weekend. That happy tree in the middle of the garden-- as well as one of the trees on the left side of the picture have since been dropped and turned to firewood thanks to the Emerald Ash Borer)...

It's been monsoon season here in NW Ohio.  We got our garden in but so many farmers are faced with water-related planting issues (e.g. their fields have become temporary ponds).

Peas

Our green beans are finally sprouting.  This is seed package #2... must have gotten a defective pack on try #1...

Lettuce and Spinach