Poor Pitiful Pearl and Peppermint Bark

The Mondawmin Mall in Baltimore may have been the first enclosed mall; I think I read that somewhere. Anyway, it was the place we went to when I was a little girl. It had two floors of shops and everything anyone, at that time, could want.

My favorite shop was Roger's Toy Store. It was on the first level, tucked in the back. I can still remember how I felt as we'd approach. Right near the entrance was a life-size stuffed giraffe. There were games, stuffed animals, and my favorite: dolls.

One year, near Channukah, I remember looking longingly at a doll in the window: Poor Pitiful Pearl. Pearl was a woebegone girl: she had a shabby dress and a headscarf. She had big sad eyes, a button nose and no hint of a smile. Every time we went to the mall I had to spend at least a few minutes looking at her. And without fail, my mother would tell me she was too expensive. And my response, without fail, was always, "I'm just looking."

Jerry's mother, Judy, passed away last week. She had survived three lung cancer treatments over the last ten years, so by anyone's estimation, her life was a miracle. Judy was a collector: paintings, first-edition books, Lladro figures and dolls. She had Shirley Temples, Barbies, and a host of rare and collector-coveted specimens.

Several years ago when Judy was at the house, I pulled out my Whimsey Doll. Tillie The Talker certainly showed her age and the effects of a little girl's own whimsy. She had her hair cut and her ears pierced. But I loved her, and I still do. We got to talking about dolls and I told Judy the Poor Pitiful Pearl story.

The next Christmas, we were at Judy's house. She still lived in Dayna Point at the time, and we flew down, hauling presents for the family. Christmases at Judy's were known for their excess. Lots of stuff; not all of it something you really wanted, but the philosophy seemed to be more is more.

We had a nice dinner and then moved on to opening presents. Because of the multitude, we each took turns, opening one present at a time. There were t-shirts and tool kits from trade shows; there were flamingo socks. And then there was a big box for me from Judy.
Poor Pitiful Pearl, in her patched red dress and headscarf looking up at me with those sad eyes.

It may have been the best present I have ever received, and I still get teary thinking about it.

To call this year's Christmas subdued would hardly describe it. Jerry and I are pretty much ignoring the holiday. Four months ago his father in Southern California died, and now, just days ago, his mother, in northeast Texas went to sleep and didn't wake up. Fortunately Jerry had been there just the week before when they could still talk and tell each each other of their mutual love. I had been there in November, so I got to see Judy when she still had hope that she was going to once again, beat this thing. I am so thankful for Hospice coming in and telling her if she didn't feel like getting out of bed that was just fine, and letting her know it was okay to go.

The one holiday tradition I did not give up this year was baking and making candy. Every year I make a couple of batches of peppermint bark and I sell it to raise money for AIDS Lifecycle. I didn't hawk it as heavily as I usually do, but I sold five or six pounds, so raised some money for the cause closest to my heart. I also baked two different kinds of biscotti and as usual, toffee bars, which are Jerry's favorite.

This has been one hell of a year. And I am so looking forward to it being over. Jerry and I plan to make New Year's resolutions for the first time: we resolve to have a happy 2011, full of fun and travel.
God bless us all.

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.

And miles to go...

before I eat. Actually it's just too early for dinner, but that doesn't stop me from thinking about it.

Jerry and I just took an eeny weeny ride around the neighborhood on our singles. I'm slowly getting the seat to the proper height and every now and then even take a hand off the handlebars to signal. I'm getting there, slowly. But getting there. If the weather holds we'll take the singles to the bike path in Sausalito this weekend, and I will try at least a small hill.

Halloween is Sunday, and I'm looking forward to our cul de sac party. We sit outside with big bowls of candy and eat turkey chili that Vicki makes, cornbread that Joan makes, and drink wine that Rita brings. This year I made bat cookies for dessert.

I found a nice brown sugar cookie recipe on Epicurious. It had nutmeg in it, and I added a little cinnamon. I overdecorated the bats and they are hideously lovely. Lots of sprinkles and black and orange gel. I've never used this gel before and I sure as hell hope it firms up. I'd like to toss the cookies in the freezer so I don't eat them before Sunday.

Tonight we'll probably have beans and rice leftovers that I made in the slow cooker last evening. I sure do love my slow cooker. It's not like I'm making anything different; I just love not having to deal with things like stews and spaghetti sauce. No burning on the bottom: no trying to adjust the flame to low enough to not scorch whatever it is I'm cooking.

And I've already started planning Thanksgiving. For the first time, I may actually stuff the bird. or not. Decisions, decisions.

Half Bike, Noodles and Beer

Anyone who knows me knows I am a tandem rider. What they might not know is why I pretty much stick to the tandem.

Two years ago, I took my newly acquired used single bike, a Bianchi Boardwalk, out for a ride around my neighborhood. I left with my garage door opener in my back pocket. No ID or anything else with me.

The next thing I remember is waking up at Marin General, Jerry by my side, a cut on my head and double vision. Somewhere, somehow, just a few blocks from home I crashed. I don't know what actually happened, though I can surely speculate.

Riding as a stoker on a tandem takes strength, but not much skill other than to be in tune with your captain. I don't steer; I don't shift gears; I sightsee and keep an eye on the cyclometer so I can kick a little harder when our speed is down.

What I think might have happened on that day I crashed is, I was paying far too much attention to my cyclometer and not enough to the road. Crash. I had a concussion and I damaged a cranial nerve, forcing me to wear prism glasses for six months until I'm thankful to say, it fixed itself without surgery.

Since then, I have taken two cycling classes but the fear has not left. But I really did not want to give up. So, once again, I signed up for a class-- this time with the Marin Bicycling Coalition.

The positive part: there were only two students in the class; the downside: the area in which we had to practice was far too small, due to Biketoberfest taking over much of Fairfax. We did run through drills and while I was shaky, I gained a bit of confidence. Then we went for a road ride. We rode for an hour, making our way through Fairfax, San Anselmo and a bit beyond.

And it felt great. I had a few wobbly moments, but I was comfortable in the traffic. I stopped at stop signs, signaled for turns and felt good. I'm not sure of my speed because I took my cyclometer off the bike, so no temptation to look at it.

Jerry had taken out his single, so we met up at Biketoberfest after my class. This event is a combination bike fair and beer tasting. Jerry and I are not much in the way of beer drinkers, but we had fun looking at bicycles, and everything that goes with them. Once again, we drooled over a Calfee tandem and got a kick out of seeing a bicycle powered blender. If you wanted a smoothee, you had to pedal for it.

Knowing we were going to ride today, last evening I thought about making a noodle dish for dinner, though I wasn't feeling particularly inspired. I had made a large pot of spaghetti sauce earlier in the week and we had already had that, so I wanted something different. But what, but what...

I dug in the pantry and found a box of Chinese noodles with black bean sauce. I didn't remember buying it and had never had it before, but that didn't stop me from figuring out an improv dish. I steamed some broccoli and snow peas, sauteed some spring onions and garlic while the noodles were boiling. I also threw some pieces of cooked chicken breast in with the onions and garlic to heat it up. With that, I added some grated ginger and hoped for the best.

While it won't win any prizes, it wasn't bad. Next time I will add some heat with some cayenne and add even more ginger.

So as not to lose my nerve, Jerry and I are going to take our single bikes out again tomorrow. We'll ride around the neighborhood, continuing my progress on the flats, and perhaps sometime soon, I'll actually attempt a bit of a hill.

But as my friend Diane said when I posted on Facebook that I had ridden.. one pedal stroke at a time.

Going Commando and Popcorn

I have discussed, ad nauseum, about my butt issues on the bicycle. I switched back to an old seat; I used chamois butter by the bucketful; I tried every brand of shorts on the market, but nothing seemed to help.

Jerry and I carted the tandem over to Mike's Bikes the other night and had Jessica, one of the salespeople and a cycling enthusiast, look at my fit. We had had a fit, but the last time we saw Jessica, she told us to bring the bike in and she'd have a look.

Jessica didn't see anything wrong with the fit, but she did have some ideas. First, she suggested I do a short ride with padless shorts. Second, she asked me to put a pad in the shoe of my shorter leg.

So far, I have acted on her first suggestion. Yesterday, Jerry and I did a short 22-mile ride, part of the AIDS Lifecycle kickoff. Even though I'm not riding ALC 10, I'll still do the training rides on the tandem with Jerry. He works even harder on the tandem than on his half-bike, so he figures the training will be really great, and I get to ride.

First thing I noticed was, hmm, yeah, I feel the seat, but it doesn't really feel that bad. At red lights and when we coasted I stood as much as possible, and by the end of the ride I was a little sore, but no real irritation on those spots that get so irritated.

What I'll do on longer rides is still a question. I might try taking the seams out of the pads because maybe it's the thread doing the irritation. I may look for wider or narrower pads. I may try longer rides in padless shorts and see how I do. In any case it was surely wonderful to ride and not want to cry because of the blisters on my butt.

After the ride we had snacks at Sports Basement, I bought a pair of Sugoi padless longs that match my shorts, and we gave our raffle tickets to our friend Gabo, and wished him luck.

We got home and Jerry talked to his mother's husband about her condition. Judy has been very ill and in the hospital. Things continued to be not so great, so we decided that we should partake in our usual Sunday evening activity of popcorn for dinner at the movies.

We saw "Social Network" and enjoyed it more than we thought we would. Who knows if those folks are really such big jerks in real life, and who cares. We got our mind off of troubles for a couple of hours and ate the entire large bag of popcorn.

We did get better news today about Jerry's mom. She's much better and may go home from the hospital in the next couple of days. Made us both much happier.

And in my quest to get back on my single, I'm taking yet another riding class next weekend, this time with the Marin Bicycling Coalition. Maybe the third time's the charm.

It's what I do

Jerry's father died last week. We knew it was coming, but when it actually happens, there is no way to really predict reactions and feelings. Jerry had been going down to visit him fairly regularly in the past several months; on his last visit I accompanied him. We saw his dad declining pretty rapidly.

This was a man who perhaps less than two years ago was still beating people half his age at racquetball. He had been diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis some time ago, but it seemed the disease was very slow in progressing. I think it may have been to his active lifestyle. Besides racquetball, Don took care of property he owned, doing maintenance and mechanical work.

Don would have celebrated his 88th birthday at the end of this month. So while he lived a long, full and mostly healthy life, it's still not easy to say goodbye to a loved one.

We got the news late Thursday evening, and Jerry left the next morning for Orange County. At the time he said he'd let me know when funeral arrangements were made, and then I would come down. But it didn't take either of us long to realize that just wasn't what felt right, so I flew down on Saturday.

And I started to do what I do. Feed people. I cooked dinner. With Don's wife Carmen and one of her daughters, I went shopping. I began planning what we would have to eat after the funeral.

For me, food is a way I express myself. It is love; it is caring.

The funeral was Wednesday, and I came back to the house after the church service. I didn't like missing the military honors at the cemetery, but I felt I had a job to do at home. I arranged trays; I cut up the brownies I had baked. I arranged chairs. I wanted everything to be ready when Carmen, Jerry and his sister Donna, and the rest of the family arrived.

Carmen has four children and they in so many ways were like Don's children. They, in turn have a bunch of kids, and a few of them have children as well. Don was their grandfather and great-grandfather. At the funeral they spoke so lovingly about him. It was touching and bittersweet.

We sat around after the funeral and basically had a non-alcoholic wake. Stories were told, and we got to know each other all over again.

There is still much to do, so Jerry will be making trips down to Orange County to help Carmen sort through things and help with what needs to be done. When I can, I will go with him. And I'll make dinner.

Blisters and Mustard Sauce

The last time Jerry and I rode, my seat issues continued, so I changed back to my old saddle-- a Specialized Jett, since in the past it had worked for me.

So, we set out Saturday morning, full of high hopes for a great ride. Initially,everything felt great,and I thought I had solved the problem, but as we climbed Camino Alto, that old "spot" started to nag at me again, and I knew the problem was not solved.

We rode around 40 miles, out to Lagunitas, where we took a break.After having rested my behind a bit, I felt ready to ride off, but it wasn't long before pain and acute discomfort set in. By the time we reached home I once again had a full-fledged blister.

After our ride, we stopped in at Mike's Bikes in San Rafael, where Joyce, a downhill rider, has given me advice before, and I think perhaps she came up with the answer. It's not the saddle, but its position. We will bring the tandem in later this week (and she wants me to bring ALL my shorts) and we'll get to the bottom of my bottom problem. I have confidence that she can figure this out.

The night before the ride, I decided we needed a good dinner; besides, I felt like cooking.

I went to Trader Joe's with a couple of ideas; I settled on some thinly sliced pork loin. I also got some mushrooms and broccoli.

We had some farro at home and my previous attempts at cooking it were not entirely successful. The farro was cooked just fine, but it seemed no matter what I added to it to spice it up, it was just plain bland. This time, I had some other ideas. I soaked some dried chanterelles and porcinis and used the water, along with some chicken broth, to cook the farro. I sauted the reconstituted dried mushrooms with garlic, shallots and some fresh mushrooms in some olive oil. When the farro was almost done, I added that mushroom mixture and sprinkled in perhaps two tablespoons of grated parmesan.

I sauteed the pork and steamed the broccoli, and in the pan I had sauteed the mushrooms, I made my mustard sauce. I sauteed some more garlic, threw in some herb mustard, squeezed in the juice of half a lemon, then whisked in some yogurt. I cooked it gently over low heat.

The meal came together really well, and we really enjoyed it. And even though I was full, I knew there was some home-made ginger fig ice cream in the freezer, so I just had to have a dollop to finish off the meal.

If only the ride had been as pleasant as that dinner!