christmas eve 2022 wigilia

 

My sister-in-law decided I needed these socks to make it official.

To my Polish in-laws, the big celebration of the season isn't Christmas Day, but Christmas Eve, Wigilia, the Christmas Vigil. We don't eat meat that day (because on that day, the animals spoke, and you don't eat entities with whom you might be in conversation), so the meal is full of fish, cheese, and other non-meat comestibles -- and that means my soon-to-be-niece-in-law, who's pescatarian, can eat without suspicion or concern (we made sure to have Goldfish Crackers, but drew the line at Swedish Fish).

This is the first one without my mother-in-law, who was undoubtedly La Grande Dame (or whatever the Polish equivalent is) of the celebrations. It fell to The Excellent Wife (TEW) and me to host (who am I kidding? She did virtually all of the work; I was merely scullery and sous-chef). 

At dinner:

After dinner, there's the singing of Christmas carols, some in English, and some in Polish. We've got a couple of books of kolendy, Polish Christmas carols. I can read music, and can hammer through the Polish pronunciation well enough to sing along (the Excellent Mother-In-Law never really believed I didn't know the words, and was SURE I knew what I was singing, despite my protestations of ignorance). And then the opening of presents, glorious chaos.

It's both a very late night for me (who's usually in bed by 9) and over too soon. TEW and I spent the late night doing the dishes and making sure there wouldn't be general rot in the kitchen by morning; this morning I've dispatched the good silver to its storage, and we're packing up the Christmas china.

We've done our presents, and we're planning a quiet day, with another good dinner courtesy of The Fresh Market or Whole Foods or somebody (sheesh, doncha think TEW did ENOUGH cooking yesterday?), and then to a few loads of laundry and putting the house back together. Domestic life is good. One doesn't need drama and excitement all the time.

tew gets cider donuts

 

The Excellent Wife (TEW) took off this week from work, and has been enjoying herself immensely, including going paddleboarding for the first time. Today, she wanted to go on the Friday Team Social Security C ride, so I agreed to go on the C+ ride and bring her to the park. 

She was more than a bit put out that Eddie L had scheduled OUR stop at Battleview Orchards, where cider donuts would be available, while her stop would have no such offering. TEW has a thing for cider donuts, which I do not share, but de gustibus non est disputandum.

We enjoy seeing the folks at the start. They're always delighted to see her, and she enjoys the attention (mostly...).

Eddie's route (which he inherited from Al P, I'm led to believe) went over roads with which I am largely unfamiliar, but they felt as minimally dangerous as is possible for such a destination; I've been to Battleview Orchards a few times, and I'm fairly sure I remember being a lot more terrified on those rides. You can see the route on the ride page. (HAH! And we actually brought it in at a C+ pace!)

 While there, I bought a half-dozen of the cider donuts, managed to get rid of three (not by eating all of them myself!), and wrapped up the other three in the plastic bag and stuffed 'em in my pocket (I was wearing a home-made jersey with really deep pockets). On my return (with the last of the C+ group; I was a slowspoke today), I found TEW among a circle of the C group and the faster C+ riders, apparently having a great time. I presented the donuts to TEW. The response, even as I am typing this several hours later, was as I'd hoped: I have a certain amount of "good husband" cred out of it.

(I was sure "cred" was going to be flagged as misspelled by the spell checker, but it's not. I'm hopelessly out-of-touch.)

One bike-y mechanic-y note: one of our number had a flat, and in replacing it, inadvertently broke the wire on his Di2 rear derailleur, and had to ride home with only the front derailleur able to shift. While this is a rare occurrence, it is not making electronic shifting more attractive to me. My cheap Sensah Empire mechanical set, however, now has well over 100 miles on it, and is behaving nicely.

not to raise the attention of the trickster goddess

 Found it! A 30-mile (as near as makes no difference) route from home that is reasonably safe and interesting, that passes toilets, and that doesn't risk the attention of the trickster goddess of Amwell Road.

Trickster goddess? Yes. Forget what you learned in church, and forget that misbegotten Loki of the Marvel comic universe. Gods are powerful and arbitrary, and tricksters are the most arbitrary of all. On one occasion she will be sating you with willing partners followed by pizza and ice cream, and on the next she's gauging reactions when she replaces your digestive tract with a turkey vulture. (She has no particular interest in you; she's just as interested in the turkey vulture's comments.)

So today's was a good ride with no divine arbitrariness. Once again, I set the GPS so I couldn't see time or speed, and went at the pace that felt right. I was almost a mile-per-hour faster than yesterday (likely due to the early start; early AM is my time of day), but I was still passed a few times by the younger-and-faster, so I've got some humility to get right with. OTOH, I met a number of the Major Taylors coming the other way on Canal Road; I thought I recognized Ralph S-J's voice as he called out, and I thought I saw Vern H, and I'm SURE I saw and heard Albert B. So that was pleasant.

And I came up on The Excellent Wife (TEW) doing her ride for the day. We did a little bike-y flirtatiousness, and then I came home. Chores later.

I hope to see some of youse on tomorrow's ride out of Claremont. The hills aren't long or high, but they're nasty.

july 4 all-paces

 I'll post a few of mine below, but you really want to go to the Photos & Albums page on the FreeWheeler website to see the album for this day. Luis C and Mike V sent along some of their pictures... and they were far better than mine.

I led a C ride on which The Excellent Wife (TEW) rode along (we don't have many rides together, so I look forward to these). We did this route, but the ride was largely memorable to me because the Stonebridge Bagels, where I'd planned to stop, was closed for the holiday. We repaired to the deli nearby for refreshment, and the Byron Johnson park had the toilets open.

(At Memorial Day, we nearly got blocked out in Allentown because of a parade. I wonder if the goddess of Allentown is toying with me?)

But I had a happy group, who stayed together (unusual for a group or fourteen who don't ride together). Thanks to Marty P for sweeping. Below, a few of my favorite pics from the day:

abroad 2

 Continuing about our 25th anniversary trip: April 18 to Edinburgh. Edinburgh is cool. At the fortress:

In the city:

TEW loved Scotland, and wants to go back.

The next day, a ferry to Ireland, and dinner in Nancy Hands, a pub in Dublin.

 

April 19: around Dublin. We took a tour of the Guinness Brewery. One of the highlights for me was this advertising specialty of a fish on a bicycle:

Regina is not really impressed.

Then to Glendalough. If I got it right, there was a Kevin in the 9th century who'd decided he'd had it with the hustle and bustle of (then) modern life, and moved to the Irish wilderness to be a hermit. Others followed, and a monastery grew up there, which was used for centuries. 

In the Priest's House, above, it's said you can put your hands on the wall and pray for healing. I tried it for a private intention. It can't hurt; nothing else seems to be effective!

April 21: to the Irish National Stud Farm. Horses. Mrah.

Then to Kilkenny. I liked Kilkenny. TEW is more taken with Scotland, but I liked Kilkenny.

Then to Waterford, to the crystal works:

That evening, to a pub in Saratoga to hear a local band. The singer, on the left, had a decent voice, but no rhythm, and told the WORST jokes. The old fellow in the middle, Eamonn, made that concertina dance; he was great.

April 22: Wales. Cardiff, the castle and the city. I liked Cardiff, too. Cardiff Castle is a Victorian recreation of what a disgustingly rich person thought a medieval castle oughta look like. He also showed off his erudition, with wall decorations in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic. (I prolly woulda done the linguistic showing off, too.)

All right, there will be a part three...