Clowning at work

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAKE!

Today is Jake Wagmore's birthday! He's two! He's wonderful! And we love him!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAKE!!

Granola cow

I woke up this morning with a beard. I guess that happens when you don't shave for a while, but it was unplanned. I also have long hair suddenly. Well, long for me. It's at least an inch and half long, sticking straight up out of the back of my head. A hairy, autumnal cow lick. This is what happens to men in my family when the weather begins to cool. They get hairy and warm. It's a necessity developed through many long Florida winters spent at the beach.

It rained yesterday so in light of the wet and the hair, I made granola (though in this picture they look like meat balls ...). As you do. Along with everything else I'm going to eat this week.

Cow licks and rain and granola. Uh huh. That's what I'm talking about.

Of thumbs and carrots

You ever have one of those nights where you find you’re just bored with what you’re cooking? I’m asking you Internet. Answer me!


I usually have some sort of meat for dinner, with vegetables, maybe a potato, and a salad. On nights when I’m willing to wait on the broiler I’ll burn some toast just like Mom used to. I even make my meals ahead of time so that when I get back from the pool, or the hills, or the woods or grandma’s house or wherever, it’s ready to go.

Last night I just said no.

No, I will not eat the same healthy dish that I’ve been eating for 30 years.

No, I will not sit down and enjoy a favorite.

No, I will not succumb to the desire to eat what I love.

I dug around in the pantry/cat room for something new and unique. I found black eyed peas. Ah ha! Black eyed peas. I hadn’t had those in while. And then I remembered that I grew carrots this summer and had just harvested and put them in the fridge.


My cruddy, clay-like, rocky soil produced the smallest dwarf carrots I’ve ever seen. Shorter than my thumb but as big around as normal, healthy Earthen carrots. And ugly, bumpy and warty like my thumb too. Ahem. Like someone else’s thumb. Not my thumb. I have beautiful thumbs.

It wasn’t easy to peel them, and they didn’t bare much, but my crop of thumb-carrots went nicely in my soup of peas and celery and … water.

The soup was bland. I’m not a good soup maker, what can I say?

Tonight I’ll have chicken with squash and potato. Maybe a salad.

Ladders

Today my company took part in the United Way Day of Caring. I guess it’s been going on for a couple weeks, but today Thermo Fisher chimed in. This is when perfectly able people leave their very important jobs for a day to help those in need. I originally wasn’t going to take part because I was already planning to be gone from my job for a very important week of vacation, but dates changed, vacation cancelled; now I have to care.

I was assigned to clean a lady’s gutters down in New Market. Great, I thought. Spend the morning working outside helping someone instead of sitting at my desk blogging and pretending to work.

I asked Thermo for a ladder. First I was told this would be no problem, which it did indeed turn out not to be. In the 24 hours it took to get the ladder however there was a crisis, a disappearing man, and I was informed that ladder borrowing was highly unorthodox because - here we go - anyone who uses a ladder must go through training.

Excuse me? Training to use a ladder? This must be litigious, corporate America. I got my ladder without having to sign anything however because, well, I’m unorthodox.

In the interim I thought it would be helpful to have some trash bags on hand so I don’t litter this woman’s gutter guts all over her yard. I managed to get one of the directors to let me into the broom closet (here only directors can do such a thing) and get some trash bags. He handed them over with the admonishment, “Don’t let Dickie see you with those,” implying that there would be some sort of trash bag count and we could both be in deep trouble.

Really? Training to climb a ladder? A trash bag Nazi? What kind of place is this? How does this company manage to participate in Day of Caring every year?

How do you care without trash bags? HOW DO YOU CARE WITHOUT A TRASH BAG?

Lobsterman Triathlon

Man, what a weekend. A while ago some former teammates and I decided we were going to do the Lobsterman Triathlon in Maine. It was ranked as one of the most beautiful races in the US so it seemed like a really good idea. That was until I had that race in Virginia a few weeks ago and suuuucked. I thought maybe my racing days were over.

Then there was the concern of how to get there. I really wanted Jake to go and figured we'd have to drive, but I didn't want to put Randy, my blue steed, through 1000 miles in a weekend.

We left Thursday immediately after work. I left Jake in long term parking with Randy - and a note that said "I'm coming back! I'm not a horrible dad! I just left! Give me a break!" Once I took the bus to the terminal I had to turn around and hop on another to get a rental car. But then it was smooth sailing. Jake was fine, and the car ran great. We had lots of room and ... XM radio! So Jake got bluegrass through New England until we arrived at Shannon and Steve's place, Clear Point Center, in Connecticut about 4 am.

We headed up to the race together the next day, and began one of the best weekends ever in Freeport, Maine. The trees, the bay, some camping, a little fire, a great race, and a lobster bake with Gritty McDuff's beer to top it off. I was more than a little blissed out.

The only down side was leaving Jake with a complete stranger while I raced. I had no one to watch him until a friend of a friend of a friend volunteered. Thanks Sofia! He wasn't too happy about it and I could hear him from across the campground before the race started. As my ears began to freeze during my warm up I thought I'd either have to do something about it or let it go, so ...

I raced really well. I had a super fun swim (after being repeatedly punched in the face by this guy who couldn't quite figure out how to draft effectively). There's nothing like a wet suit in salt water at 58 degrees. It felt like swimming through the air and I came out ahead of the pack. The bike was just enough rolling hills to keep me moving and I felt fast. Then my run fell right in line with really consistent splits and - voila! What a race.

And Jake was fine. Sofia and he greeted me at the finish line. She did not jump up to put her paws on my shoulders, but I got his. She said he was a very good boy the whole time. (Maybe I can dig up some pictures.)

We walked, we mingled, we got a massage. By the end of the day people were saying hello to him by name. He was a big hit. When everyone finished, Gritty McDuff's sponsored a lobster bake, with clams, potatoes, corn and famous Gritty's beer afterwards. So good! So good!

Steve, Shannon and I returned to the Clear Point Center in Connecticut for a long nap, an apple upside down cake and a walk in the woods before I had to head back south. Jake got to run in the woods and wade in a couple ponds, so he was a happy camper too.

Throw in a long drive back to Virginia and it's another 72 hours I will never remember. I coudln't be more glad. One heck of a trip.

Rough Weekend

I ate some crab legs. A lot of crab legs ....

Not really. Friday night Jake and I rode into Washington DC to see Kiehl and boy did we have fun. Two days and two nights of non-stop fun. Home-made coffee, sleeping on a yo, play time at the dog park, and runs in the woods. What a blast.

We met 4 college buddies (not ours) who had a phone that could make you look fat. For that, we ended up hanging out all night. Jake got to go to all the bars and he was a hit. What a good boy.

On the way home we stopped and ran some of the Appalachian Trail. As we exited we stopped by a spring to get a drink and there were two hikers stopping to camp for the evening ... with their Great Dane! Rex looked just like Jake except all white. Very handsome dog, and the two got along famously. We played for a while.

What a great weekend. A little getaway was just what we needed. I've lost all the weight now but I still look a little funky ...

Moozac for Monday (It's Thursday)

Hey Mom look! This is that song I thought you'd like ...



And this one we both like ...

I know everything

I have a new job! A new non-paying type job. Those are fun. Examiner.com has writers all over the country that cover topics from food to mom-issues to music. I recently applied to write for them as their National Public Policy Examiner. And they said yes! (Though I don't get the feeling they say no very often ...)

So now not only can you read my witticisms and psychoses here at The Rion Rose, but you can also hear what I have to complain about on a national forum.

I wrote my first piece today on Obama's economic woes facing the mid-term elections. It will take a few days for them to check it and publish it, but once they do I'll let you know what my page is so you can read on.

Oh, and Mom was in town and we went to the Shenandoah County Fair. Hence the photo. We watched the harness races, toured the livestock, ate fatty food, and even screamed at each other in public (on the Orbiter, which was trying to rip our guts out so maybe that doesn't count). The point is, even though now I'm not being paid to know everything, and I'm a nationally published columnist, I still know how to judge pigs and get dirty with my mommy. Isn't that fine?