Point Reyes and the Death of Velma and Earl

The weather here in Marin is what summer was supposed to be like. It's sunny, in the high 60s, low 70s and perfect for cycling.

Jerry and I had not been on our tandem in weeks, so this weekend we ventured out for a short ride-- only about 20 miles-- from Nicasio to Pt. Reyes Station.

Despite having not ridden much lately, the bike felt great and we averaged around 15 mph. Granted, we didn't take on any major hills, but we rode well and it did feel good. Next weekend, maybe we'll ride a little further.

I haven't been on my single bike in a couple of weeks, but I don't think I've lost my nerve. I still need to ride up and down hills; I haven't done that yet, but it will come. I need to be patient. But due to my lack of nerve, I don't get much of a workout on the single, so tandem riding keeps my muscles going and chest heaving, so more tandem, less single until I'm ready.

Velma, my chicken that is strapped to my handlebars lost her cluck some time ago. The stress of all that air pressure was just too much for her. I knew I had to retire her sooner or later, but the later came sooner, as this week, Earl, Jerry's handlebar chicken, almost lost his head. The sun beating on his little rubber neck was just too much, and it finally got the best of him. We are considering burying them in a shoe box in the back yard. For now, they have been freed from the bike and are lying in state on the hood of my car.

My Week of Meat

Part of why we have not ridden much lately was due to our week-long trip to northeast Texas, more specifically, Lone Star, where Jerry's mother lives with her husband.

Judy has not been doing all that well lately, so we thought we'd visit. She has successfully battled lung cancer for longer than anyone I've ever known or even heard of, but it has now spread to her other lung and it has weakened her significantly. She's on oxygen and using a walker, and occasionally a wheel chair.

Judy and Dee have help come in every day and friends and relatives bring over casseroles. Judy is not eating much, so I decided my assignment for the week was to make things she liked in hopes of getting her to eat more. And I know what Judy likes: meat. People who know me know I will eat most anything, but what I don't eat is beef, but that wasn't going to stop me from cooking it, though I knew I had to ease into it.

The first night I made turkey meatloaf, mashed Yukon golds and sauteed zucchini and yellow squash. I folded eggs, mild salsa and breadcrumbs into the loaf. The potatoes were filled with milk and lots of butter, though no garlic. I did use some garlic in the squash, though not a lot. These are two folks in their 80s who are not all that fond of highly spiced foods. I even found out a few days into the visit that Dee does not like garlic or squash, so they weren't in much of the menu for the rest of the week.

Deciding that I had waded in far enough, on night two I took a deep dive with steak. Here's where I admit that I let Jerry grill the steaks. The kitchen has a small GE grill-- sort of like one of the George Foreman type of things, so I marinated the steaks in some oil and vinegar, and yes, garlic (I hadn't received the news about Dee yet) and Jerry grilled them up. I roasted brussel sprouts and potatoes. The potatoes were a hit; the brussel sprouts, not so much. Jerry and I love them, but again, the traditionalists would have rather had them boiled.

Next came boneless pork chops. I took a chance on a mustard sauce, and it indeed, went over well.

I ended the week with beef stew that was also gratefully accepted. I made enough so there were a couple more meals to freeze.

As the week went on, Judy seemed to be eating a little better and got a little stronger. She had a setback when she stumbled and tripped while using her walker, and while she wasn't hurt, it blew a big hole in her confidence.

For me, while it was a big cooking week, it was not an eating highlight for me. It's just not my kind of food, particularly the beef. On those nights I had leftovers of things I did eat.

The highlight of my week, eating-wise, actually came shortly after we arrived in Texas. After we left Love Field in our rental car, we went in search of dinner before our long drive. Not far from the airport, we stumbled upon a little diner. Lucky's looked like your usual greasy spoon, except it had a full bar. And my gaydar immediately went off loudly: the place was full of gay men. And there was fried okra on the menu. So all in all, a wonderful dining experience.