Posts
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Vanno Velocissime
My cycling club, FOG, is offering a very nice looking merino wool trainer (Australian merino wool), think wool warm-up jacket. The email notification included a picture and it has the words “FOG Manitoba” across the front and then, is smaller script underneath “Vanno Velocissime”. I was curious, so a little Googling was in order. It turns out it’s Italian, and of course it’s a cycling term. Curious? It and other terms are explained here (I like the photograph too, it looks like many typical cycling days in Manitoba).
I’m going to practice this one for the club rides next spring. “Vado troppo veloce per te?”
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Snow Time
I like the way the new roll up garage door didn’t have to try and push the snow out of the way to open up like the old door did. Shoveling was a good workout. More snow please!
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Blue Screen of Death
This took a full re-image of my hard drive to get rid of. Lots of fun locating all the software you acquire and configure. Since I’ve had to do this a couple of time now I’m developing a cheat-sheet document to help the process along. That and Norton Ghost doing very regular backups.
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Rullupylsa in the Raw
The making of an Icelandic TraditionBack on December 8th we re-vitalized an Icelandic tradition that has been in our family for as long as I can remember. My Ama made it, then my Mom, made it and somewhere along the line I started making it. For a few years we sort of dropped the ball for one reason or another, mainly because we lost our connection to a good source of Lamb flanks. But this year, we’ve re-instituted the tradition with a little help from Thor’s Meats and Groceries in Selkirk, Manitoba, a great source for boned lamb flank. FYI, boned flank saves a ton of work. Anyway with the main ingredient secured, we began the 6-8 day process, prepping the meat as shown in the photo. They turned out fabulously and we’ve enjoyed it several time this season with friends and family. We’ve even managed to share it around the country by sending some to my sister and brother-in-law in Victoria, and cousins in Toronto. If you’re thinking of giving it a try, here is the recipe.
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Warmer days
With -15 and snow this morning it looks like FOG cycling is done for the year. We saw this load of bikes in Yellowstone earlier in the year. Don’t let the sunshine fool you, it was June and +6 during the day with sub-zero over night.
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And then there were five
Today’s FOG ride started out and a very balmy -3°C and virtually no wind. The flags on the Legion were just hanging straight down. As I pulled into the parking lot at 9:50am I was greeted by one rider, Dave. As I got my gear together and we chatted, we wondered where everbody was? The temperatures have been in this zone before, and there has been a decent turnout. Before long were joined by Tom and then shortly after Roland pulls in. Great, there are four of us, and it will make for a good ride. It’s a little after 10 and Juergen rolls into to the lot. We decide to wait for him and by 10:15, we’re off.
The ride to Lockport was a little brisk as all the blood was re-directed to the legs and away from fingers and feet, but after that it was a pleasant ride. We crossed over on 44 and out to 206 and up into Birds Hill Park. A very civilized cruise up 206 with Dave pulling all the way and nobody breaking out of the paceline for a little sprint to the top.
We skipped the lap aroung the Park, and were cautious of a little snow and ice on the shoulders, and headed back on Hwy 59 to Prichard Farm Road for a brisk 36-37Kph run up to Henderson and then back to the Legion for 63km ride.
The five of us a laying claim to the “Hard Men of the North” title for the remainder of the year (and perhaps longer) as this may well be the last ride of 2009 with snow forecast later in the week.
If you’re wondering where Dave is in the photos, he rode home after leaving us at the legion, and of course the camera guy is rarely in the picture.
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Caddy Lake Memories
I was looking through some drawers the other night and I came across some pictures from my Mom & Dad. Two little 3 x 3 booklets of black and white pictures from 1950s. Is these pictures I’m 3 and Gail would be 7, and were standing in front of the first cottage in what would be several cottages I’d experience growing up.
The cottage was build by my Grampa and Dad, all by hand, no power tools. Quite an accomplishment and one that still impresses me today. Just spend some time with a hand saw cutting 6×6 posts to length and you’ll know what I mean. I have a couple of vivid memories about this cottage. One is about a salt lick we had on the lot and watching the deer that came quite close to us to get to the salt. The other involves a car. Just to the right of the boardwalk is the driveway and it’s a little steeper than it looks. At the end of a weekend when Mom & Dad were loading up the car to go home. Gail & I were put in the back seat and told to “sit there and don’t touch anything”.
Well, after a while a guy gets a little bored and a car is a fascinating place. I leaned over into the front seat and was playing around with the steering wheel and then the gear shift leaver, and suddenly we were in neutral and rolling backwards down the driveway. Just then Dad and Grampa came out the door, dropped whatever they were carrying and came running to grab the car.
This is the view down the driveway to the lake. I was always told that the car might have rolled down, across the road, and throught the lot in front of us, and into the lake. Looking at this, I think the trees would have stopped the car first. Anyway, they managed to stop the car and get in and put the parking brake on. I think there was a stern talking to and perhaps a spanking involved, but all I really remember was being rescued. A good cottage story with a happy ending.
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update
I’ve been getting a little flack for not posting anything to the Blog for a long time so here is an update.
I’ve actually been thinking aboot a lot of things for a post but just not putting the thoughts down.
One of the recurring thoughts is around sentimentality and memories. For the last number of months I’ve looked at stuff around the lake or house and had some strong memories triggered about my parents. One example was a day at the lake when I needed to take some tools down to the dock for a project. I looked around for the orange plastic tool tray but then remembered that somehow I’d left both of them at home in Winnipeg.
I looked around under the work bench and there it was. A well worn galvanized sheet metal tool tray that I made in Grade 8 and given to my Dad. He had kept it all those years and as I loaded it up with tools I remembered many of the times we’d worked together on a project with that tool tray near by.
Mom and Dad have been gone for 10 years this month. I think of them every day and “tool tray” moments really keep the memories alive and meaningful. Memories triggered by things that might have been thrown out or replaced by something shiny and new.At times these old treasures make me feel like my dad’s hands are on my hands. This summer I used a classy brass plumb bob with a string wound on a stick. It was my Grampa’s, then my Dad’s and now mine. The brass part is in perfect condition and I put some new string on the well worn stick a year or two ago. I’ve seen that tool off and on all my life and when I used it it was like they were there with me.
For me some of these old ordinary things that have been around my life for a long time are some of my fondest treasures. Treasures that trigger precious memories.
