The Egg Hunt

Spring is a glorious time of year. The grass is green, the trees are green, and the azaleas are in bloom. While many are enjoying time outside in their gardens or yards, I have found myself scouring post-Easter sales for the last of the season's Cadbury Creme Eggs. While far from being a low point in my life, it is certainly not the pinnacle. Every year, I eat them until I am sick, swearing that I will never eat them again. But of course by the time spring comes around I have forgotten how delightful they are.

That chocolate shell, creamy center, and well who knows how much fat/calories/wholesome goodness they have because they come wrapped in foil. Upon consulting the website, I found that these delicious morsels had no information listed.

Even though it is an egg, which are nutritious I am somewhat suspicious of large corporations. You never know, Hershey's Chocolate may not want us to know what we are eating. So I continued to search until I found the following:

Just as I suspected, it is fine for human consumption. I am not sure what I was worried about. Anyway, I was successful at Walgreen's the other day, they had three of the 12 pack mini-creme eggs. Although the chocolate to creme ratio is not exact, they do fine. They were half off so I bought them. I checked at three different locations today, no luck.

You may find yourself wondering when a person with a full time job, four kids, a dog, and a wife has time to search for the last of the eggs. I don't but it is a labor of love so I neglect them. After all, I will work for the rest of my life and I have my family all for the rest of time and eternity. I can only get creme eggs once a year.

The Journey Continues

I apologize to my 3 avid readers for my apparent laziness. The truth is, I am preparing to visit a far off land. A place that is exotic, hot in the summer, cool and rainy in the winter. Best of all it is full of people that don't like me, well not specifically me but people like me....and you. This particular deployment will be unique and has taken a lot of additional effort to prepare for.

I have been able to enjoy some of the finer things in life though. I have spent a fair amount of time with my wife and kids. Since I have them, I might as well enjoy them. I have also been able to spend some time with the few quality friends that I have. You may have guessed that both involved bikes and in some cases fish; although not both at the same time, I am trying to figure out how to work that out though.

One of the great pleasure I have is bicycling, as I have said a hundred times (+/- 5 times). I feel like a kid when I do it. I love that Olivia rides very well and has a competitive spirit that drives her. The other day she rode her bike eight miles, a feat that would cripple many adults. Vance likes to pedal but becomes frustrated on hills, so I put him on the half bike. Emily pulls the other two in the trailer. Olivia got a new Mountain bike for Christmas and she uses the brake levers and shifter like a pro.

I recently found out about a path that follows the Appomattox River above the fall line. It is beautiful and user friendly to a point (at which point it becomes both muddy and extremely challenging). I am researching the history of the area because it is quite fascinating. Bellow are two stone arches.

These have been here for at least 100 years. I don't care how many Sunday School lessons I have had about keystones and arches, my heart pounds when Olivia runs over them.

Although I am sure that is why she does it too, she has a dare devil spirit.

Take this for example notice all of the kids playing. Now take notice of the pink in the tree. She wanted to go higher. I was not comfortable with that.

History: Part II

Today the weather was nasty. This record snow is getting on my nerves. Of all of the things I miss about the west, snow is not one of them. Even so, I am drawn to ride in it, probably because I am always trying to reconnect with the former me. I ventured out today following another snowstorm. Ironically, there was less snow in many places due to the fact that it rained all night. What was really odd was that places that were frozen lakes the day before were now massive puddles and areas that were small rivers were frozen.

Drawing from the past couple of days failures and experiences I hit the trails. The sun was out and the sky was blue. The only problem was the 25 m.p.h. wind gusts made it about 16 degrees. As I cranked my way around the mud, slush, and snow I felt the sense of freedom that comes with bicycles. I only got about 1 hour in, which turned out to be enough because everything began to freeze up.

Then I noticed everything was freezing up and my derailure pulleys quit spinning. Every drop of crud thrown up from my bike tires was freezing to my shifting cable. Then I noticed that my shoe was collecting slush and freezing. Then I noticed that my bottom bracket was frozen.

It is not often that this part of Virginia gets snowfall like this and it would have been a shame to pass it up. Upon completion I poured some water on my bike to try to wash the crud off. That just created another layer of ice. Then I poured it on my shoes to try to get the frozen slush off.

I am sure you are asking, "why would this crazy person, who just complained about the ventilation on the shoes pour cold water on his feet?"

The solution is simple, high tech cycling gear in the form of grocery bags.

While I have spent an a fair amount of money on a nice jacket, gloves, and tights I neglected my feet. A problem with a simple solution which is reminiscent of my childhood in Montana. When the boots are soaked, use bread bags! Maybe I am not so soft.

There is fine line between hard and stupid! It is probably as ambiguous as my hairline.

Or the mud strip up my back.

History

It is not often that one can be a part of history. Even though I am one of countless millions participating in a historical snow storm, I am still part of history. Right??? I decided that I would further establish my place in history by riding my 29er at the battlefield in the snow. Let it be marked in the annals of history that at exactly 2:48 P.M. I was the only person to ride his mountain bike during a historical snow storm on the battlefield. Who knows, years from now I could join the ranks of such people as Lewis and Clark, John Colter, and that guy that did that amazing thing that one time. Children throughout the world may be learning about my exploits.
Probably not.

I used to ride all winter in Montana. I studded my tires with sheet metal screws and I wore jeans or shorts. I was tough and concerned about what people thought of me. I was anti-spandex/lycra and apparently had a rock hard tail bone and butt since I never wore padded shorts. I was all about riding, I did not concern myself with fashion (unless it involved spandex); instead of high speed technical riding gear I wore baggy shorts and wife beater tank tops in the summer.

It is funny how life changes. Take the picture below. Please note the backdrop says 1990. Also note that I am thin and have hair.

Emily and I are still standing next to each other; the four others have been replaced by four children. I have changed; I have lost the hair on top of my head. The good thing is that the geek remains. Even though I have hardened over the years, I have softened too. I now buy studded tires and padded shorts and riding has become more complicated as well.

I love bikes for their simplicity, so how has bicycling become more complex. Here it is, I am weak and somewhat concerned with apparel. The other day I wanted to ride in a snow storm (that hasn’t changed). The snow was beautiful, coming down in large flakes, reminiscent of when I was young and not concerned with the weather. Unlike the 19 year old with hair and a rock hard butt who just wanted to ride, I found myself sitting at the battlefield with no shoes. For those who are not familiar with the amazing world of bicycles, I buy pedals that require special shoes and cleats, much like a binding on a ski needs a boot. So I went back to work instead of riding with combat boots.

The next day I was determined to ride in the snow. Even though the large flakes were gone, there was still plenty on the ground. It was really wet so I went to change into my fleecy and windproof/waterproof tights (that I would have never been caught dead in when I was tough). One would think that a $125 windproof/waterproof tights would have some padding in the butt, but alas cycling has become complicated and it is necessary to wear a pair of padded shorts underneath. There I was with no padded shorts. Adamant that I was still capable of riding I left headed to the battlefield with no derriere support.

A couple of observations:

1. Summer riding shoes with lots of ventilation for the hot weather are surprisingly cold in the winter. Who would have thought that lots of mesh would allow a ton of slightly above freezing water/slush to saturate my socks?

2. Small seat with no padding in the cold equals frozen wedgies.

3. When the guy at the LBS (local bike shop) asks if you want wind resistant and waterproof gloves, say yes.

At the end of a 1 ½ hour ride, I was so cold and covered with slush/mud/snow/water that I quickly left without stretching. I don’t remember ever stretching after a ride. I do not ever remember a sore hamstring for three days either.

The Sweet Smell of....failure: Dismal Failure

For many who know me, I am not the most creative spouse gift picker outer. I will start out with a disclaimer, I love my wife. She is smart and beautiful. She is an amazing hard worker and drove herself home from the hospital (45 miles in nasty traffic) 26 hours after giving birth to a 9 pound 8 ounce baby. Seriously, the nurse that walked us out must have thought we were on crack. If it ever became necessary to move across the plains with hand carts and wagons, she would be an asset. She is possibly the most stubborn woman on the face of the earth and refuses to admit it. But that is why I love her.

So it is only natural that during holidays she be given the greatest gifts. Although this is not an impossible task, it is challenging. I have always enjoyed a challenge, like the time my platoon had to plan and conduct a raid on five houses at once in a 1 squarish block area with only four squads. The challenge was met by adding the company mortar section. It was still a challenge, but easy to solve. How bad is it when combat operations in Iraq are easier to solve then Christmas shopping for my wife?

Emily mentioned that she wanted a specific perfume, one that I am not so fond of. But of course, it is not about me. So we conducted a forced family outing to the mall. The mall was full of Christmas spirit, and by that I of course mean that was the spirit of UFC Mixed Martial Arts fighting. So I went to the Macy's, where I didn't like the service. Out of principle I left and went to Sears, where they do not have a perfume counter where a "professional" could help me. Sears does have a great tool department and I considered getting Emily the torque wrench she has wanted for years. But I decided I better just get her what she wanted. So we walked to the other end of the mall to Dillards, which looks just like Macy's.

It was there that Olivia, Vance, and I began the arduous task of picking out perfume. Wait, you may ask, "why would you pick out a perfume if she told you what she wanted?" That is a perfectly legitimate question with a great answer. I am slow. If you remember, I am not a fan of the smell she wanted so we did a triple blind scent test. I would hold up a sample card and the kids would smell it, if they liked it I would place it back in the pile. Eventually we narrowed it down. Many women thought that this was sweet, the way we as a family picked it out. A loving husband and children carefully selecting the scent that was the most pleasing without using an olfactometer.

Being the rocket surgeon that I am, I devised a scheme to see if we had done good. I kept the smell card and casually asked Emily what she thought of it. You guessed it, not only did she not like the smell, she reminded me of the odor she wanted. Being the king of good intentions, I had already purchased it and let the kids pick out the wrapping paper.

There I was, the king of good intentions with my fancy paver creating yet another road to hell. My punishment was having to go back to the mall, exchanging the other odor for the right smell and having it rewrapped so the kids would notice.

AAAAHHHHHH, the holidays

Distracted Drivers

It is time to finish my report on the Holiday Season. Since I am back at work and finally getting some rest following a vacation, I have some time to think and write. For me, the Holiday Season is off track, it has become too commercial. It is really sad that a day that is set aside to commemorate the birth of a very significant person has become a gauge of the nation’s economic situation. So in an attempt to try to center my family on what is the most important aspect, Emily and I decided we would take the children to see the Festival of Lights at the LDS Washington D.C. Temple. With more than 450,000 lights, a live nativity (when it is not snowy and cold), and 16 decorated trees in the Visitor’s Center. All this work is done by volunteers to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas.

Although the drive is only about 150 miles it can take 4 or so hours depending on how good the traffic is. By the time we drive back it is always a full day. In order to soften the pain, we make a slight detour off of the I-95 corridor to visit some friends from Alaska that now live in the D.C. area. They have four kids that parallel ours in age and have known each other since they can remember. It is fun but chaotic to have 8 kids in a house, they love it though.

For this trip we left the house at about 9 A.M. to arrive at Woodbridge at 1 P.M. We were going to leave our friend’s at 3 P.M. in order to meet my mother who was driving south from New York. When I called my mother, she said she was 70 miles away; we were 40 miles away from the Temple. As soon as we hit the beltway, traffic came to a halt. It took us over 3 hours to drive 40 miles.

As usual, the lights were fabulous and my kids were not. Below is a picture of my daughter. Vance is clearly not participating and Olivia was cold.

We briefly conversed with my mother and hit the road. But since the kids had not eaten since much earlier, we stopped for some food and drove back to the beltway, as I was driving up the ramp I knew we were done; we got to enjoy another festival of lights.

I apologize for the blurred pictures, some guy on a cell phone cut me off and I had to hit the brakes just as I was taking the picture. I hate distracted drivers! We enjoyed these lights and did not get home until after midnight.

AAAAHHHH the spirit of Christmas!!!

I Lost a Child!

I would like to start off this post with an amazing fact. The fact is about 1 year ago, I weighed in at 243 pounds. It was not muscle. A few weeks ago I weighed in at 213 pounds. That is thirty pounds. Just think about that. Now look at the picture below.

That is Simon, who needed a lift. He weighs about 34 pounds I have lost almost a 2 year old child’s worth of fat. Where did I keep it, obviously the weight was not on my left leg like Simon. Where was it? Check it out for yourself.

My Head

Two peas in a pod?

Anyway, here is a more recent photo (and a shameless ploy to show off a deer). Pretty amazing.

Me, not the deer (although that is pretty amazing too). My head is not nearly as fat.

I never thought I would have a weight issue, then one day I awakened and my clothes didn't fit. It is amazing to be lighter again and the pain in my knees has subsided. The secret, don't eat a bag of chips and a ton of soda everyday if you find yourself sitting behind a desk all day.