Run the Republic 2009

As I've mentioned before, part of my exercise routine (if you can call it that) is climbing stairs. So I've entertained the notion of doing this event, a fundraiser for the American Lung Association, but never gotten around to it.

Then my friend Maureen said she'd signed up this year but couldn't make it, and did I want to take her place? Before I could think too hard about it, I said yes – despite the crazy start time of 8:15 a.m., immediately after the elite runners.

Here they are, ready to climb fifty-six stories. That's 1,098 steps.
The No. 1 guy, bouncing up and down, is Ricky Gates, who also finished first.

Here's a video of the start:

Now here's me! Standing in line, waiting my turn and thinking, "Wait, why am I doing this? Where's the coffee?"

Because let me tell you, there were a lot of very fit people there, all decked out in their cardio-gear, heart monitors strapped on, calf muscles bulging, ready to kick some ass.

Well, I wasn't about to let my own ass be kicked, dammit. So, here's me at the starting line, about to step onto the blue mat that picks up the signal from a chip tied to my shoe.
And here's me on the 35th floor – more than halfway! – stopping for water. There were three or four water stations along the way. And cheerleaders!
Next thing I knew, I was at the top! I thought there was another flight left, so I didn't have my camera ready. Just got this one crappy shot of grabbing my medal.
I did it! And I didn't even need the barf bucket. (Yes, some people did.)

The view was pretty spectacular, and a photographer was on hand to document the moment. I got her to take a shot with my camera, too.
My face was pretty red!

Now, you maybe wondering what my time was. Ricky Gates, age 27, the No. 1 guy, ran it in 5:51. Cindy O'Neill, age 46, the top female finisher, ran it in 8:05. Me? I walked it in 20:50. Putting me in 26th place, however briefly.
Yes, those are just the preliminary results. Runners were starting every 8 seconds until 1 p.m., so if I stay in the top 1,000, I'll be doing pretty well! I'll find out in a day or two.

Thanks, Maureen, for helping me get my butt in gear!

Fifty-six flights

Republic Plaza is that tall building in the background. And today is Run the Republic. I can't believe I'm doing this.

Boycott Chef Al Rosas and Rosas Farm

Wondering why? Ask Cook Almost Anything and Rasa Malaysia.

This outfit operates in Florida at farmers markets, and also sells via catalog and online. Don't buy their stuff.

Indian street food rocks!

When Manisha of Indian Food Rocks! said she was hosting a Stitch 'n' Bitch, I had the best intentions of hauling out my knitting and getting rolling again.

Who am I kidding? I was really there for the food. Indian street food.

When I walked in, the potato patties (or "patis") were sizzling away on the stove. They consist of boiled potatoes mashed with turmeric powder, red chili powder, dash of lemon juice, some chopped cilantro and salt, then rolled in some farina (in this case, Malt-o-Meal).

Manisha was ladling mustard oil with cilantro and sesame seeds on the dhokla, which is a kind of spongy cake made with rice flour and dal (and sometimes the Indian equivalent of Alka Seltzer! That made me laugh).
On the table was a fabulous spread of dishes and condiments:
The patties are covered with a heaping ladleful of ragda made of, in Manisha's words: "dried yellow peas soaked overnight and then pressure cooked with onions sautéed in oil + ginger + garlic + green chillies + cumin powder + turmeric powder + salt."

Atop that you can add a variety of chutneys: sweet tamarind, made with dates or apples, cilantro/lime/mint/green chili, and and red chili/garlic. Plus onions and some crunchy lentil noodles (sev).
To cool the heat of the dish, you can have a bite of sweet yoghurtlike shrikhand. Or you can add to the fire in your mouth with a snack of dal biji (Haldiram's is the best brand).
Then it was time to pull out the stitching.
T. was working on a hat like the one above, J. was considering scrapbooking, and F. showed off the swimsuit she made for her daughter, a champion synchronized swimmer.

(Interesting side note: The swimsuit has to be stretched out as big as possible on a frame before you start sewing decorative elements onto it. Otherwise, the swimmer would never be able to get the suit on, because those beading stitches don't stretch.)

Manisha, meanwhile, was working on her own creative endeavours:
The elements: lipstick, "Bitch" wine and Gorillapods (mine and hers). I slipped in and snapped a shot, too:
There was a lot of talking and laughing but not much actual stitching going on. And the eating wasn't finished, either. Manisha brought out some gulab jamun (dough balls in sweet syrup) and ice cream.
Nom nom!

What a fun time it was! The drive home was a bitch (wet, icy, snowy roads and drivers alternately super-timid and dangerously oblivious) but I was comforted by the bundle of leftovers on the seat next to me.

Thanks, Manisha!

Blew and blue

That wind! It wasn't so bad when I took Sophie for a long walk earlier, but now it feels like the whole state is about to be peeled up and flung over Kansas. A good day to enjoy a nap.

But first, some blue items. I am not really into the whole meme/tagging thing but sometimes I see something on another blog that I want to imitate. Today Betts started a "rainbow week" of posting items of different colors, starting with blue. It was easy enough to pick up my camera and join the game.

	Many of Mom's paintings have blue skies or blue backgrounds.

Nice to have such a talented (and generous) artist in the family, eh?

Then there are the vases: Chinese enameled ones that were a gift from a student, a deco potpourri vase from my great-grandmother's house, and one of a pair of urns, also ancestral, that holds an umbrella palm in water.

In the kitchen, James Peterson's "Splendid Soups" caught my eye on the cookbook shelves. It's a splendid resource.
On the kitchen windowsill, a pastis carafe. I frequented a Parisian cafe for about a week once and asked the waiter where I could get one. He sent me to the flea market, but when I came back empty-handed, he slipped this one to me.
My grandfather was a great photographer and I am lucky to have many of his bird shots, including this great blue (!) heron.
And finally, ephemeral and lovely, a blue crocus that is blooming in my front yard today. Where has winter gone?

Field-expedient fence repair

Well, it's not really a repair, just an alleviation of the symptoms until my handyman can get here. I discovered today that our most recent high winds left the fence leaning drunkenly out over the sidewalk.

Rebar and nylon dog ropes will keep the pedestrians safe for now.

Handyman informs me that he has worked on nothing but fences for the last month and a half, thanks to numerous "wind events." I'm more glad than ever that I had that hollow bee tree taken down.

Deaf as a doorbell

The doorbell needed new batteries. As you can see, it's a clunky old model but it still functions pretty well. And when the volume is turned up, it's loud.

An apt metaphor for my aged poodle, who's a bit on the creaky side but still pretty functional. And loud when she wants to convey her needs ("Jerky! NOW!").

Alas, the dog who used to bark at the sound of a doorbell even on the radio in the car is no longer quite as in tune:

I have the tool

Speaking of gadgets, I bought this pry bar years ago and have used it for many small tasks. It was perfect for unsticking the windows in my old house that had been painted shut, for example.

But guess what this gadget is really called? It's a hive tool. Yep, a piece of standard beekeeper's gear has been lurking in my toolbox all this time and I didn't even know it. You use it for prying, loosening up or scraping parts of the hive, because the bees tend to glue everything down.

There's another kind of hive tool, sold by the backyardhive.com people, that is specifically for top-bar hives. It's pretty, and expensive. But I'll probably end up getting one, too.

Silly kitchen gadget No. 39

If you eat a lot of bagels, and purchase them unsliced, maybe this is a good gadget for you. It might also be good for someone who doesn't trust himself not to slice his hand open instead of his bagel. Me, I'm OK with a decent serrated knife. Yes, my sliced bagels are usually a little lopsided, but I'll live. And save $5.

I'm even less likely to shell out more than $20 for the bagel guillotine, which would take up a lot of valuable counter or drawer space for a single-use gadget. Or does it work on English muffins, too? I have no idea.

I am, of course, talking about home use here. If you deal with bagels commercially, the bagel guillotine is probably a godsend.

Whenever I do a silly gadget post, I end up learning a lot more than I expected. For example, here's a web page where you can learn all about bagel slicers.

No need to thank me. Just send H&H.

Bye-bye, beast

This TV has been taking up valuable storage space, dragged out only for Mom's visits and the occasional movie night with the Sergeant. The impending switch to digital signals has finally pushed me to put it out for the alley scavengers.

It's kind of a funny feeling, going from "I don't watch TV" to "I can't watch TV."

Poodle fun

For once I happened to have the day off when a poodle meetup was happening. I love to go see all the poodles, even if Sophie doesn't really care much about playing with other dogs anymore.
She was the shaggiest dog there! But not much inclined to mingle.

Cindy, the organizer, made up little treat bags, and each poodle had to do a trick of some kind to "win" one, be it as simple as a sit-stay for Petey:
Or as complex as a game of tic-tac-toe for Inca:
But really, there were enough treats for everyone – we all came stocked with full pockets. And every moocher knew it.
A treat also helped keep the interest of Sebastian, the youngest attendee at seven months, as I snapped his picture with Sophie, the oldest.
Poodles are the best!

Lemon-garlic roast chicken lovin'

Thanks to Mom for this Valentine's chicken recipe!

Preheat the oven to 475. Take a plump, 4-pound bird, rinse and dry it inside and out. Salt and pepper the cavity, add a bunch of garlic cloves, a handful of fresh thyme sprigs and the juice of a lemon. Stuff the lemon halves in there, too. Butter the outside of the bird and coat it liberally with Old Bay seasoning.

Slice up a yellow onion in wedges, scatter it in your pan with more garlic cloves, more thyme, a splash of water and the juice of another lemon. Stick those lemon halves in the bird, too. Put the bird in the pan "boobies down" and roast at 475 for half an hour. Flip the bird over onto its back, reduce the heat to 425 and roast for another hour. Remove it from the oven and let it rest for 10 minutes.

I served it with garlic mashed potatoes (I used garlic from the pan) and steamed asparagus. Cherry pie for dessert.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Werner Mill Iron Rachel 7300

That's the name of this lovely grand champion Angus from Cordova, Ill. She was born in March 2007.

The Stock Show is long gone, alas, but this photo has been sitting on my desktop for a while, waiting for me to do something with it. I have restaurant reviews going back months that I haven't posted yet, either. My blogging mojo is on the wane.

I'm not quitting, though.

And also, I've finally managed to respond to all previous comments, I think!

Don't laugh

Two-for-one sale on three-packs of 12-oz. cans plus shipping came to $3.60 a pound for 13.5 pounds for good coffee. You can't even get Folger's for that.

I now take a container of milk mixed with cold-drip coffee to work every day and have quit buying Starbucks entirely. This tastes better, and it saves a lot of money.

Where are you cutting back on expenses?

The DMV is A-OK

Maybe I lead a charmed life, but I can't recall a visit to the DMV ever being very painful. These days, of course, you can do a lot of administrative stuff online, which makes it even easier.

I needed to renew my plates, but had forgotten to change my address, so I had to go in person on Monday.
You walk in, push a button on a machine according to what you need to do, and get a ticket with a number on it. It even tells you how long your approximate wait time is. In this case, seven minutes. You just wait for your number to come up on the display. Bing, bang, boom, you're done in two shakes of a bee's butt.

Driving home, I thought, hmmm, maybe I should get vanity plates next time. Except someone already got mine:
If you were to get vanity plates, what would they say?