Eat now -- sing later

After my first summer off from Vocalessence I am anxious for choir to start up again. Our first concert is just over a month away and while we are supposed to be learning Mendelssohn’s Lobgesang, (if we didn't already know it), a subset of altos decided to focus on socializing and eating tonight instead. The Melting Pot was delicious. I deep-fried every piece of food I could reach.

More RAGBRAI

Slideshow: Out of the Saddle

Sports news

Gary and I are sitting out on the deck tonight, listening to the sprinkler water our tomatoes. The radio is on and a local station is discussing the impending Kevin Garnett trade to the Boston Celtics. I listen to a lot of talk radio and, although I have never been to a Timberwolves game, I know who Kevin Garnett is. We've been hearing about him on the radio for YEARS! Someone mentions that Kevin Garnett is 31 years-old.

"Kevin Garnett is only 31??"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"We are SO old."

"Yeah. We are."

Update: And nothing fixes the feeling that you're old better than a late-night skinny-dip in your back-yard, $150, white-trash swimming pool. Refreshing!

Quintcycle?

Family of Five
Originally uploaded by danonbike.

(See, I didn't take many pictures of my own this year so I'm posting some I found on Flickr.)

He wasn't alone

ragbrai_day3_17.jpg
Originally uploaded by lifegradient.

I would have put those dreads up in a bun, though.

Insane unicyclist

RAGBRAI_2007_P1090205
Originally uploaded by alanwhitaker.

He rode the entire route.

Have you read this?

My mom lent me her copy of The Road. I started it this morning and when I log off here, I'm going to finish it tonight. It's fantastic.

GO MARY!

You are gonna ROCK the half Ironman beginning in about six hours!

Oo-oo that smell

See, the problem with quitting the ride four days into it while your partner rides the entire seven days is the discrepancy in Camp Stink. The man and his gear smelled quite bad. I was hoping I might hit a skunk with the minivan on the way home to offset Mr. Bickerson's stinkiness. Whew!

In the news

Astronauts have flown while drunk.

And that's the only way I would do it.

It's a tie

Two worst things ever seen on Ragbrai:

1. 70 year-old man in a black thong attempting to participate in water slide activities. He fell and hit his head. He was unhurt but everyone watching him suffered a traumatic brain injury.

2. You know how bike jerseys have those little pockets in the back for a banana and your wallet? You know how on Ragbrai there are lines for the portable toilets as far as the eye can see? How much money would you have to have to justify reaching into the murky depths to retrieve the wallet that fell out of your bike jersey pocket? I hope she had a LOT of money her life savings in there.

It's a Who's Who bike ride!

John Edwards' butt hurts

John Edwards is here; Lance Armstrong is here. Someone said they saw Oprah and Dick Cheney in a draft line yesterday. Another friend reported that the whole reason behind the Scooter Libby pardon was so that he could ride, too.

Forecast

RAGBRAI just wouldn't be right if the temperatures were not in the 90s:

Hot, hot, hot!

In case you missed it

Dog's okay. Guy's okay. Wheel's not okay.

Bob Dylan

Never really appreciated his music much. I think his talky singing style interfered with my paying attention to the content of his music. I've been listening to lots of Gary's library tunes and Modern Times has made its way to the top of my playlist. I have come to the conclusion that Workingman's Blues #2 is the best song ever written. This video is crappy but this song isn't available on bobdylan.com, or I would link there. If you haven't heard it go listen. Get a box of tissues. Makes you think of grandpas, small towns, and so on. (Note to my bro: this might be a really good song to work into any A/V presentations you may have planned for JMW's 100th. Not sure if Bob would give the okay to have The Oak Ridge Boys cover it. That might not go over well.)

WORKINGMAN'S BLUES #2

There's an evenin' haze settlin' over town
Starlight by the edge of the creek
The buyin' power of the proletariat's gone down
Money's gettin' shallow and weak
Well, the place I love best is a sweet memory
It's a new path that we trod
They say low wages are a reality
If we want to compete abroad

My cruel weapons have been put on the shelf
Come sit down on my knee
You are dearer to me than myself
As you yourself can see
While I'm listening to the steel rails hum
Got both eyes tight shut
Just sitting here trying to keep the hunger from
Creeping it's way into my gut

[Chorus:]
Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the frontline
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues

Well, I'm sailin' on back, ready for the long haul
Tossed by the winds and the seas
I'll drag 'em all down to hell and I'll stand 'em at the wall
I'll sell 'em to their enemies
I'm tryin' to feed my soul with thought
Gonna sleep off the rest of the day
Sometimes no one wants what we got
Sometimes you can't give it away

Now the place is ringed with countless foes
Some of them may be deaf and dumb
No man, no woman knows
The hour that sorrow will come
In the dark I hear the night birds call
I can feel a lover's breath
I sleep in the kitchen with my feet in the hall
Sleep is like a temporary death

[Chorus]

Well, they burned my barn, and they stole my horse
I can't save a dime
I got to be careful, I don't want to be forced
Into a life of continual crime
I can see for myself that the sun is sinking
How I wish you were here to see
Tell me now, am I wrong in thinking
That you have forgotten me?

Now they worry and they hurry and they fuss and they fret
They waste your nights and days
Them I will forget
But you I'll remember always
Old memories of you to me have clung
You've wounded me with your words
Gonna have to straighten out your tongue
It's all true, everything you've heard

[Chorus]

In you, my friend, I find no blame
Wanna look in my eyes, please do
No one can ever claim
That I took up arms against you
All across the peaceful sacred fields
They will lay you low
They'll break your horns and slash you with steel
I say it so it must be so

Now I'm down on my luck and I'm black and blue
Gonna give you another chance
I'm all alone and I'm expecting you
To lead me off in a cheerful dance
I got a brand new suit and a brand new wife
I can live on rice and beans
Some people never worked a day in their life
Don't know what work even means

[Chorus)

Now go dry your eyes.

Personals

I am: Desperate lady, desiring Quickbooks installation update support NOW, impatient, on the verge of losing it (seriously, I'm thinking about throwing my computer through the new family room window).

You are: Self-assured Quickbooks help desk technician, possibly Indian or maybe Sri Lankan, definitely at the top of the help desk support ladder, having all the right answers, making a desperate lady feel secure and in good hands.

Oh, p-shaw

We had Patagonian toothfish (YUM!) at our wedding, too.

(I've decided to channel my hormonal 2.5 Days of RAGE into hate-filled and sarcastic blogposts, instead of directing all that "energy" onto my fairly innocent husband and children. Fairly innocent.)

(And on an unrelated note, I would like publicly apologize to my brother for accidentally spitting corn on him while I was talking at the wedding last weekend. I may have had one-too-many glasses of wine and/or beer last Saturday night.)

Game over

Oprah? Obama. Obama? Oprah.

Uh.... no.

Does Your Dog Need Sunscreen?

The day any one of you catches me applying sunscreen to my dog -- please feel free to call the authorities.

Puppy love

Yesterday it dawned on me how that term was coined. There is no better phrase to describe the way my 7 year-old acts around his favorite park playground supervisor. He completely turns into a puppy in this older boy's presence. Hank announced to several of us as we were sitting on the deck the other night that he is "in love with the boy with the puffy hair." And this older kid's hair does kind of remind one of Sami the Labradoodle's fur coat (while Hank's is more that of a wirehaired terrier).

There was A/C in there

One good way to know whether or not you are at an Iowa farm wedding is to catch your husband and cousin drinking their beer in the new cow refrigerator that the bride's father built. And a heads up to all you photographers out there; cows do not appreciate flash photography when they are chilling out and minding their own cow business in the 'fridge. There should be a sign: No photographs please or we will attempt to gore you with our imaginary horns.

Iowa scenery

Gary and I rode out and back on The Road to Nowhere which was actually not to nowhere (it led to a guy's driveway) and quite scenic and fairly free of traffic. It's always nice to find a safe-ish paved road to ride. Good Ragbrai training.

Dateline: Iowa

We're back in my hometown for the wedding of my cousin's daughter who was our flower girl 18 years ago this summer. We'll start the day with a 5:30 a.m. bike ride with another cousin, just so we don't totally feel out of the triathlon action loop. Peace out!

Good luck

Good luck to my brother who is competing in his first triathlon tomorrow morning in the Iowa Summer Games, and to Mary and friends for tomorrow's Lifetime Fitness Triathlon.

Kick some butt, everybody! And have FUN!

And may I offer you a suggestion for a post race snack?

Terra Chips Plain Sweet Potato Chips

The happiest news story today

Try not to smile while you read this.

And here's how-to site for any of you so inclined.

You said it, sister

Hope and I are entertaining ourselves tonight while the boys are at the movie, Transformers. Hank has been begging to see it (ever since we were at Target two days ago shopping for a birthday present and he laid his eyes on all the *#$%! Transformer toys) even though it's PG 13 and his mother has instructed him that PG 13 means you damn well have to be 13 before your mother lets you see a movie rated PG 13.

But all my (14 year-old) friends have seen it, MOM!

Mr. Bickerson is the primary rule-breaker in this family so he decided to take Hank to see it this afternoon (since we have been advised by a 17 year-old that it is "awesome" and "not scary"). I await Hank's verdict.

Meantime Hope has been swimming in our new Backyard White Trash Swimming Pool. It's a freezing, windy 70 degrees outside (the Global Warming Concerts are over, you know -- The Al Gore Hologram has Left the Building, so to speak) and it's approximately 78 degrees in the pool (which is the opposite of warm when you're talking pool temperature).

So she swam and I supervised and then she started shivering so bad that I thought she might break some teeth. I was waiting for the bath to fill and to pass the time, tried to see if I really tried could I in fact touch nose to tongue like Hank and Gary can do. I can't do it. (I've mentioned this before, by the way.)

Hope, sitting in the warm tub surrounded by rising bubbles, was watching me and she tried, failed, shrugged her shoulders and said, "I guess we're both just on the 'Can't Do It Team.'"

I guess when it comes to nose touching maybe we are on the same team, sweetness, but I am happy to be on it with you.

Cycling

Drug scandal or no drug scandal -- Stages 1 and 2 were pretty exciting.

Stage 1 video (Be sure to read the sidebar info about the amazing comeback.)

Stage 2 article

Everybody in the pool

Behold George's Photoshop magic. Although everyone was in the pool together at one time, they weren't all looking in the same direction. Now most of them are.

So Gary's dream came true last Thursday night when he found this pool for sale on Craigslist for a mere $150. We have already had $150's worth of fun, too, and it was capped when Gary decided to do his own 21.95 meter (it's an 18 ft pool) individual medley complete with flip turns. It was hysterical and the therapy benefit that came from all the laughing was priceless. He and George have promised a two-man synchronized swimming show for the summer finale.

Imaginary play

Hank doesn't play like this in my presence much any more. When he does, I think I could sit and watch for hours.

Hank and his cars

Tour de France

I wondered if there would be a good reason to watch this year. I have contracted a bad case of Tour ennui with all the drug controversy. But look! The Tour de France is new again! I'll be checking that blog to get the inside scoop.

The joke that wrote itself My joke for the day

Headline: Al Gore Appears as Hologram to Kick Off Live Earth Concert

Me: I thought Al Gore was a hologram.

Also: Damn, it's hot today.

Run-on question of the day

Mommy, can dogs get married to other boy dogs? On Jimmy Neutron a goat got married to a goat. I wonder if starfishes can get married to a sponge?

Paula Poundstone

Quote of the Day found on my Google homepage:

The wages of sin are death, but by the time taxes are taken out, it's just sort of a tired feeling.

Lost / Found: Bra

Lost/found, originally uploaded by Mrs. Bickerson.

It was hot this morning on the bike but was it hot enough to require someone to strip off her very large bra and throw it on the road?

Pyro fun

Friends brought over an aerial repeater shell last night that was about 6 x 6 inches square. I'm glad it rained a little yesterday to dampen things down before we lit fuse. No fires were reported in our vicinity. We'd never had "real" fireworks in the yard before and have previously been envious of the daring neighbors up the street who shot off their own 30-minute show in their backyard for the past several years without anyone getting arrested. Ours was pretty and lasted a full minute, I think. Only one in our group screamed hysterically during the show.

Afterwards we all made our way to the parking ramp near our house where you can see six fireworks shows from all around the western suburbs and downtown Minneapolis. They're tiny from our vantage point, but quiet. Children are less likely to scream and cry.

The entire GVPD was up there watching the show, too, until someone in our neighborhood starting shooting stuff off. It was exciting watching the police cars speed out of the ramp. I was so glad they weren't headed to our house!

Prelude to the 4th

She was a great patient. Four little cavities filled without Novocaine. She repeatedly attempted to tell the dentist something important halfway through the procedure so he stopped the drilling and filling, took out the bite blocks and said, "Hope what is it you want to tell me?"

"I REALLY LIKE THE FEELING FROM THE PUPPY NOSE!!"

That was the nitrous talking.

Mrs. Bickerson, did you quit knitting? Where's the knitting?

I'm glad you asked. I didn't quit knitting. I have a couple things in the works but most recently I have been enjoying learning the craft of needle felting. I made a black felted bag for Hank and he's letting me needle felt graffiti all over it. Picture soon. But look what I'm going to needle felt next:

I'm gonna needle felt me a Peggy like this gal did with her boxer.

P.S.: Thanks for asking!

How convenient

Gary and I readily admit that our favorite flavor of Kool-aid is Apple™ but we were able to control ourselves and not go out and spend $600 (cough) on the iPhone. That's two month's tuition for Chinese kindergarten, okay?

And after I saw this on Dave Barry's Blog I'm REALLY glad we didn't get one (yet?):

iPhone battery replacement

They'll change that, right?

Message truncated

This came in my junk mail today:

"... It makes a good case for Z Trim as a clear choice for weight management now and the future. Please feel free to share this with your friends and family. If you have any."

Snotty Z Trim marketing team. I'll be getting my fat substitute elsewhere!

Their father's children

We moved here 10 years ago and I have always wanted to go see the drum corps competition that goes on every summer during Lumberjack Days in Stillwater. Mrs. Rellim knows about my secret longing to be in a marching band. I talked her into attending a similar event in Illinois many years ago. One of the biggest mistakes I made in elementary school was not sticking with the flute. I did not know about the future marching band fun that I would miss out on by quitting a band instrument in the 5th grade.

I decided that I would go see Drum Beauty in Stillwater tonight. Eight bands from Minnesota and different states performing to see who can put on the marching bandiest show. Gary's eyes got all watery when I mentioned going and so because I did not want to see a grown man cry over being forced to endure something like a marching band show when he would rather go pantyhose shopping with his mother-in-law, I told him he could have an excused absence.

But the kids? They were going to go with me and they were going to LOVE! this as much as I do!

Problem 1: Cheap seats faced the west making it difficult to watch the backside of the bands performing from 7 to 8:30 at night.

Problem 2: The children hated it. Here is Hope who asked me if she could sit in the bleachers like this with my legs pressed against her ears so she couldn't hear or see any of the show.

So we left early and I told Hank that next year I was going to buy one VIP ticket for myself, front and center, and I would just go alone and have a good time and that would be fine. He was sweet and said, "But Mom I don't want you to be lonely. Can't you find a person who likes this stuff, too?"

I don't know. I'm beginning to think it's a very small group of people.

More joyful pictures here.