Snow in the Spruces Redux

Caramba! About 10 inches, all told. We've had snow late in the year, but I don't remember (since I've been here, anyway) having such a steady stream of the white stuff during April. This is generally high mud season, and we might get one more snow in May or June.

I figured this morning it would be better to run in snow than sleet and/or rain, so I got going right away. I did 9.2 miles. A little slippery, and there was about an inch of snow on the brim of my hat after the run, but all things considered, I was happy to make it. Saw a raft of turkeys that came out of the woods to gobble and scold me for the snow.

I'll mention right now that people up here are pretty darn tolerant. I run down a dirt road, and between a roaring stream and my iPod, usually don't hear cars coming from behind. It was slippery and kind of mushy, so I was running more or less down the middle of it this morning. I was listening to a long-ish song, and when it stopped, I could hear crunching behind me. So I jumped to the left-hand side of the road, and a car that had probably been following me for a good five minutes puttered past me. The driver waved; it wasn't the hand gesture I would've expected. That's all I'm saying.

Doonesbury is slowing down a bit:


After the run (a 9:22/mile pace, ugh), I stopped by the house to see what we needed in the way of storm supplies, pick up my gym bag and change my tops -- my sleeveless, turtleneck and hoodie were soaking wet. Had to put the car into four-wheel to get in and out of the driveway, and had a few bad moments going down the Hill Road, but made it to the gym unscathed. Biked 14 miles and sat in the hot tub for about 10 minutes since my quads were really aching. Then went to the general store for miscallaneous food and the hardware store for new oil lamp wicks. I'll need them when the power goes out, which could be any moment.

How bad was it today? Put it this way: They let the boys out of school after lunch. Hardly ever happens. The schools here decide if it's going to be a snow day or not based on whether or not the school buses can make it (safely) up the hills.

Worked like a Banshee -- is that a capital noun? -- most of the afternoon and into the evening. Glad to get all my workouts done for the week. I'll do an hour of crunches in the morning tomorrow, and pretend it'll be OK for me to make the following, courtesy of today's NY Times:

April 11, 2007

Recipe: Supernatural Brownies

Adapted from “Chocolate: From Simple Cookies to Extravagant Showstoppers,” by Nick Malgieri (Morrow Cookbooks, 1998)

Time: About 1 hour

2 sticks (16 tablespoons) butter, more for pan and parchment paper
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate
4 eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup dark brown sugar, such as muscovado
1 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup flour
1/2 cup chopped walnuts or 3/4 cup whole walnuts, optional.

1. Butter a 13-by-9-inch baking pan and line with buttered parchment paper. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In top of a double boiler set over barely simmering water, or on low power in a microwave, melt butter and chocolate together. Cool slightly. In a large bowl or mixer, whisk eggs. Whisk in salt, sugars and vanilla.

2. Whisk in chocolate mixture. Fold in flour just until combined. If using chopped walnuts, stir them in. Pour batter into prepared pan. If using whole walnuts, arrange on top of batter. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes or until shiny and beginning to crack on top. Cool in pan on rack.

Yield: 15 large or 24 small brownies.

Note: For best flavor, bake 1 day before serving, let cool and store, tightly wrapped.

Just one minor observation: I think it'd be better with eight ounces of chocolate mint bars instead of the bittersweet chocolate. Maybe I'll try it when I'm down another five pounds and three percent body fat.

Which at this rate, will probably be around September.

Bonk

I didn't get nearly enough sleep last night, so I was a bit startled when I checked my running time this morning. I did 3.2 miles in a little more than 27 minutes, or an average of 8:32/mile. Which, for most of the world, is slightly faster than a trot, but for me, was blazing.

Got to the gym and read the New Yorker on the bicycle. Very good article on commuting in America. During my last tour in A Loathsome East Coast City, I generally drove about four miles to a train station. Because of traffic, the drive took me -- on a good day -- 20 minutes. Then I took a train to a subway stop. The train took about an hour and five minutes. Then I took the subway stop about three or four stops down, to a stop about three blocks from work. That took 10 minutes on a good day. Finally, I walked the three blocks (stopping at Starbucks for coffee and scone).

General commuting time? One hour, 45 minutes. One way.

After I swam a half-mile, I was changing in the locker room and got into a conversation with one of the local retirees. Turned out we'd both lived in Another Loathsome East Coast City. Agreed the commute is not something to be missed.

And it is indeed a good thing that I didn't have to commute today. After getting back from the gym, I figured I'd start working early and maybe finish early. Quite the concept? The "starting early" part of the plan went well. Around noon, I wandered downstairs and sat on the bed to take my shoes off.

Bad move.

The next thing I remember is waking up around 1:30 pm and saying oh, shit!

I'm guessing I'm not getting off 30 minutes early today. But working out of the house is strange like that. I'll work -- solidly -- 10 hours today and feel guilty about the hour and a half nap, even though an awful lot of folks would look at an hour and a half and think ... lunch.

I know. Rationalize, much?

The Doonesbury saga continues. There's a word for this person: Tourist.


I meant to post this yesterday:

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Lauren Terrazzano Life, With Cancer

Focusing on present matters the most

April 10, 2007
'Two to three months," the doctor said, almost reluctantly, when I finally posed the question. That's eight to twelve weeks. Sixty to 90 days. Or 2,160 hours, if you want to get right down to it.

I don't know what possessed me to ask the oncologist how long I have left. In the nearly three years I've been battling this disease, I've never asked for my prognosis. I hate that word. But my body has betrayed me lately, more than usual. I've had a rough couple of weeks, with news of my cancer spreading, new blood clots, and fluid buildup in my abdomen, which has made it difficult to breathe.

There seem to be no more weapons left in the arsenal. Chemo is no longer an option; nothing seems to work. I've had so much surgery I feel like the Bionic Woman: "We can rebuild her." But with each operation, it has been harder and harder, quite frankly, to rebuild me.

Whether the oncologist is right, no one knows. These white-coated mortals do their best and make their best guesses based on data and statistics and other cases. But death, like life, is not a precise science. Only fate knows. What I know for certain is that I am 39. I have seen people like my grandfather live simple but happy long lives. He died when he was 93. On the opposite end, in my job as a reporter, I have seen 3-year-olds die at the hands of abusive parents. Nothing really makes sense when it comes to death.

Still, I was hoping you wouldn't notice the recent absence of my column; I was wrong. Apparently there are more readers out there than my parents and my husband. I didn't want to tackle this subject in this space. I had more cerebral, complicated topics in mind. Like the most recent controversial study surrounding the benefits of early CT scan screening for lung cancer, or the recent, sickening push by one tobacco company to market its traditionally male-oriented brand of cigarette to young women. I hope to eventually get to those topics.

Eventually - what a luxurious word. For some reason, talking about my latest news seems so self-pitying and morose. But I've been pretty honest about the disease from the beginning, and it seemed dishonest not to write about this very real aspect of life. This life with cancer.

So if you are told you have two to three months, what do you do with your time?

There are avenues I've left unexplored, things that have gone unsaid to certain people that I will always regret. There's a hut in the Florida Keys or the South Pacific that my husband and I will probably never see. A trip to Italy with friends before my 40th birthday to re-create, at least a little bit, my junior year abroad.

No, I am not headed to Italy, and I am unsure of where to go from here. The key, I guess, to living at this moment, is just to keep things as normal as possible, for as long as possible. This means getting up in the morning, going for a walk, trying to work and trying to write.

If things end, and there is a heaven, I will have a drink with JFK Jr. and thwack him on the head for flying that night in the fog, the night his plane crashed.

If there is a hell and I happen to end up there, I hope to meet the man who invented the tape that keeps your IV in place. I will proceed to wrap him in it, like a mummy, and then peel it off. Slowly. I hope he is very hairy.

But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is the present moment. Not two to three months. Or two to three years. Or two to three hours. Just now.

Email: lauren.terrazzano@newsday.com

Anything I'd have to say after that would seem pretty trite.

A Productive Day

So John was up early this morning. So was Will. Even the hot water heater cooperated, so we made the bus. Ran 4.2 miles, went to the gym.

You know the drill: Biked 13.2 miles and swam a half mile. Had a banana and yogurt for breakfast, chased with a handful of peanuts.

Our local mountain has closed, so the gym is pretty empty for now. That's the good news. Bad news is, the gym is going to be closed from April 22 to May 6 for some renovations. Piling on, the internet cafe in our town now has cut back on its hours for spring and is likely to close for good in late April when Celeste, the owner, joins her boyfriend in Vail. Sigh.

Got in the car and headed across the state border to the nearest Starbucks/Panera complex for the free wifi, since I had some heavy-duty downloading to do and didn't want to get another nasty fair-access violation notice from the ISP. Ran around doing some errands first -- a book on biking state back roads from Border's (my bad -- I should hate them more and shop at an independent), a bike lock and swimsuit (the old swimsuit is tarting to chafe), and a cheap-o Timex at Target (on sale for $13, probably because the temperature sensor would rather read partial body temp than the air temp).

Can I rationalize, or what?

Anyway, worked in The Big City in The Other State most of the afternoon. Had a salmon salad and apple at the Panera. I'm hardly ever this good (less than 400 calories!) when I eat out. Headed back around 5p. Made twice-baked stuffed salmon potatoes for dinner and made myself crazier than usual with attempted hard drive repair.

Saw a couple of deer on the way home. They're getting bold; they know it should be time for gardens to start. It'll have to wait another few weeks, though. Big snow reputedly coming in Thursday night.

Here's Trudeau humor for the day:

On a less trivial note.

I'm having one hell of a dilemma here. My oldest son just isn't doing well in school. He qualifies for a little extra help, but he's such an organizational mess that there's only so much to be done.

Without going into details, this is not his fault. He was born like this, and there's not much changing him. We've tried a one-on-one aide, we've tried resource room, we've tried withholding privileges, threatening to withhold privileges, bribery, etc.

He's very candid about his shortcomings. Once upon a time, he told me that sometimes his brain wanders off and he forgets where he put it. Earlier this week, he asked me if there was a cure for stuttering. I told him I thought it could be managed, and he wanted to know more about it, because his brain sometimes stutters.

Anyway, I'm thinking about modified home school, where he can take the classes that give him the most trouble -- algebra and science -- at home via correspondence course, and take his fun stuff (and still get to socialize) at school.

He loves learning. He gave me chapter and verse on different ways to abuse drugs last night. But he's failing health, because he either can't concentrate and/or can't find his homework and/or just forgets to turn it in.

No, thank you, drugs will not help.

Anyway, I'm going to have to spend a few days on this one. It's a big commitment if I do it, but I think it's worth trying. And I get the sense he might actually enjoy it. I just worry I might not be up to the job of educating him properly.

Makin' Little Rocks Outta Big Rocks ...

That's what we used to call it in Texas, anyway. Getting a day's worth of work done in the wage slave world was "makin' little rocks outta big rocks." Which beat the hell out of a jobs program put forth by one former gubernatorial candidate, who promised to introduce more folks to "the joys of bustin' rocks."

Speaking of rocks. Or things that rock:


OK, I'm easily amused today. Perhaps a little too easily:

Car crashes coop, kills 20 chickens and roosters

April 9, 2007

SEABROOK, N.H. --Almost two dozen roosters and chickens were killed Easter Sunday when a car crashed their coop.

Police say a Newburyport, Mass., man was drunk when he drove his car over two medians, went airborne and flew 60 feet into a Seabrook barn and coop. Twenty birds were killed in the crash.

David Rice, 53, was charged with aggravated drunk driving and reckless conduct. His car careened off an off-ramp at a high speed, police said.

He was arrested, treated for minor injuries and is scheduled to appear in court on June 15.

I'm thinking the above falls under the heading of "a slow news day." And you'd think there'd be more. This little disagreement in the Middle East, for example. From the NY Times, which should have a separate section on some days labelled "Life Does Not Make Much Sense."

BAGHDAD, April 9 — Tens of thousands of protesters loyal to Moktada al-Sadr, the firebrand Shiite cleric, took to the streets of the holy city of Najaf on Monday, the fourth anniversary of the fall of Baghdad, to demand an end to the American military presence in Iraq. Protesters trod on and burned American flags, waved Iraqi flags and chanted “Death to America!”

It would appear that a lot of Iraqis would like U.S. troops to leave their country. I have the most remarkable coincidence to report: It would appear that a lot of Americans would like U.S. troops to leave Iraq, as well. Although we're a lot more polite about it and hardly ever burn anyone else's flag, much less wish anything beyond a mild case of gastrointestinal upset upon an entire nation of people whom we've never met.

Whew. Enough with the rant. The hot water took its own sweet damn time to warm up this morning, so I wound up having to take the kids to school again, despite having woken up around 5:45 am. I ran 3.2 iPod-less miles on the way back at a leisurely rate, then went to the gym and swam a 1/2-mile at a leisurely rate.

Came home for some minor domestic disturbance and managed to wind up working hard most of the day. Threw together some bread (mostly white flour, but mixed a little hand-ground wheat, seven-grain and wheat germ flour into the mix) this afternoon.

Still adjusting to new contacts. The extended wear ones hurt like hell. The softer ones, not so much. Still, it's aggravating. I need to bite the bullet and get a new pair of glasses, but I'm probably third in line. Only so much money goes into the FSA every month. Sigh.

Still have quite a bit of rocks to bust.

A White Easter

Not too much done this weekend -- slept late, didn't do much. Finally got off my ass late Sunday afternoon and went to the gym. Biked 20 miles, swam a mile. Didn't run at all this weekend because (a) it was snowing like a banshee and (b) my iPod is on the fritz. Arrgh.

Strange weather. Can't remember an Easter snow before. It's usually stopped snowing by now (unless it's going to snow again in May). We're maybe due for a big snow later in the week, too. There's not much accumulating, but it does come down. Felt like I was in a snow globe this afternoon while swimming.

It was an improvement over the morning, though. The power went out around 5 am. I've got UPS (uninterruptible power supply) boxes set up to two computers. When the power goes off, they start to beep. So I was woken up by the beeping and went upstairs to turn off the UPC and promptly stepped in dog crap. Had to wipe my feet off before going back downstairs to turn off the other one.

On the bright side, it's hard for the day to get worse after that. And I'm sure there was an Easter metaphor in there somewhere, but I'm just too dense to figure it out.

Gotta work my butt off tomorrow. Lot of stuff to do, little time to do it.

Wah. Poor Me.

A short blog. I'm tired and feel like I've got ground glass in my eyes, the result of just one day too much with a pair of extended wear contacts. Wah. Poor me.

I've just got to start getting to bed earlier. Didn't get to sleep until a little after 11 pm, so I didn't wake up until 620 am. Took the boys to school, then went for a quick-ish 4.25-mile run. Drove to the gym, did a quick-ish 20-mile bike ride. Finally jumped in the pool and did a not-so-quick-ish 1/2-mile swim. Showered, ran a couple of errands, went home and worked.

Now, if I can just do this without feeling tired for the rest of the day ...

Gotta stop whining and start moving again.

Parent of the Year Material

After sliding all over hell and back yesterday while trying to drive, I figured a snow day was a drop shot. So when I woke up this morning and saw this scene out my office window:



I figured, um, yeah, snow day.

Figured wrong. The attendance office called around 1 pm, wanting to know why the boys weren't in school. Best reason I could come up with was that the plow guy hadn't arrived yet to clear a path out (which he hadn't. Not that it would have made any difference.

D'oh.

Made a bit of progress on the day job front today. Did a very good job of minding the diet -- granola with skim, strawberries and banana for breakfast, salmon and eggs for lunch, salad and homemade cracked-wheat bread for dinner. The bread came out pretty well, considering I left the ground flour in the fridge for a couple of days before getting off my butt and dealing with it.

Made it to the gym a little late, but still swam a mile and ran 3.1 on the treadmill and elliptical. The pool had four or five kids running wild, but their dad was at least trying to control them somewhat. I figured it's just training for open-water swimming.

Got a call late from my older brother. Our dad's not doing too well. He's had a rough 15 years or so. Mom died of leukemia in 1991. Got remarried in 2001, didn't work out so well. I spent most of last fall in Texas with him while he was going through medical hell (two kinds of cancers, a heart attack, a few major surgeries and some chronic issues that decided to announce themselves at age 74). So I'm worried as hell. Had a long talk with Dad tonight, and felt a little better. But I guess that's what dads are on the planet to do.

I'll have to remember that.