It's NOT a moped

So we'd just finished up a motorpacing session. Mark rolled the stop sign at the Bartonville store. I pretty much rolled it, but I did put my feet down.

Since we were done with the ride, I told Mark that I'd motor ahead to turn on the (insert sound of trumpets) coffee machine. Just as I slam the scooter into second gear I hear the siren, which makes me look in the mirror to see the lights. I was already a good something yards ahead of Mark, and the Sheriff was stopping behind him. Figuring I was being pulled over too, I went on up to the next driveway, as there was no shoulder and no real good way to move over and submit to the Popo. And I was sort of hoping that he was just pulling over Mark, because I did put my feet down.

Mark kisses ass. Gets a warning. The Sheriff tells him that he could write his friend on the moped a ticket too.

It's NOT a moped.

Kid #1 Getting After It

Here's my training partner. He's cranking up the Jeterberg getting ready for the 2006 season.

For JR

Hair of the dog, as it were. It isn't an inside joke if you go to the "Driftwood" link to the right.

Just like wine

Grandaddy shot a 69 today. His best round ever.

I need to get me one of those panty hose head cover things

Suited up and ready to ride. It is Saturday, so we're going long. Long for me right now is 20 miles. How sad is that?

I went for the hills. I rode in the big ring most of the ride to make me feel good about myself. 15-16 mph sounds more impressive when done in the big ring. I hope.

Rode the back roads and waived to all of the neon yellow jersey wearing team in training folks. Can't make fun of their outfits as I was wearing bright red knee warmers.

Through Argyle, over Hickory Hill and then Hilltop. At Four Corners I saw two riders pacing together over the hill there going to 407. By the time the four-way stop cleared, they were over the hill.

And I was going to catch them.

16 mph felt hard riding into the breeze, and for a second there, I thought about using the camera phone thing to show the progress of catching the breakaway. But I decided against it because gaining ground on them was too hard earned to throw any of it away turning this thing into more of a photoblog than it already is.

But I was catching them. Had they known I was coming after them, they would have been scared.

As I came up behind them, I tried to manipulate my wheezing to sound something like comfortable breathing. As I blasted by the camelback wearing, saggy pocketed, floppy saddle bagged duo, I gave a nod and a cool, but friendly, "What's up," and blew by them at 17 mph.

They had no chance to get on.

After rolling (just a little) the stop sign at Bartonville, I saw another pair riding towards the McMakin Hill. I was already in the little ring to roll in easy, but that Team in Training couple needed to be learned.

I rolled by the woman and said, "Howdy," and she responded with, "Oh, Hi!" That's right...she was surprised at not only my speed, but that I could talk casually while carrying it.

then I caught the guy who is probably her husband or boyfriend. I gave him a "Howdy" as well, but you could tell he was embarassed that I was showing him up with such ease. Heck, she probably was already fantasizing about me.

As Goins would say, "Don't hate me cuz you ain't me."

Hmph. Shewt, I was riding my heavy wheels too.

Costumes?

Nah, they have to wear uniforms to school.

Kid #2 woke up smiley, happy, cute...I wish I could have bottled it up, because she was like we think of little ones before we have one or before you've been puked on.

Kid #3 was challenging this morning. Not bad, but maybe a little sour. He was up at 2am, sort of went back down. Up again at 4am, and sort of went down. When I say, "he went down," what I mean was that he went back to sleep, but he kept kicking me in the ribs (still tender), face, jewels, wherever...while he slept.

I wanted to be mad at him, but he was sleeping. Right?

Man, I don't know anymore.

He was up for good at 4:30a-ish, so I got up, put in a Winnie the Pooh DVD for him, and tried to sleep in the chair next to the TV while he watched. The whole time, from 2am on, he really wasn't grouchy, fussy or anything (except for the kicking me part, but I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt). He was just, up.

Mama took off for work, and I got the kids ready to go. Kid #1 was pretty much up already, since he had some school work to get done, so all that was really left was getting some clothes on #2 and #3. The clothes they were to wear (set out by Mama) are the ones pictured above.

Maybe it was because he was tired, or maybe it was because he saw his outfit, but #3 got grumpy. Real grumpy. He took a cup away from #2. He would sit down if I told/asked him to "come here." When I told him I needed to brush his hair, he swatted the brush away.

He wasn't having a good morning. And #2 was having a great morning, so they evidently got their roles reversed from the usual.

I can't remember what triggered it, and it was probably just a combination of all of #3's sourness, but I ended up giving him a swat on the BT. Not the kind that is a beating (so don't call CPS or anything). I mean, this was a swat with him wearing a diaper and leather (his outfit...easy Enak) shorts.

Normally just raising our voice will get him to almost tear up (whereas Reanie will breakdown if you tell her she might stand in the corner at some point in her life), but not this time.

After swatting Buddy, he looked at me in the eye, furrowed his brow, and made Clint Eastwood eyes at me. For a split second, I actually got scared. I'm not ready to throw down with him just yet. I mean, he's only been two for a couple of days, and I didn't start whupping Noah's ass until he was 3 and 1/2 or so.

I did get them all in the car, eventually. We even got #1 to school on time. (yes, I'm mixing it up by calling them by name, then going back to the #'s. Oh well. Good literature it ain't.)

Buddy fell asleep in the car on the way to the ne-no shop. He was pretty cute, so I wasn't mad anymore. However, I didn't mind that after Reanie ate her donuts, she ate his too.

That's right, the new threat around here is, "Don't you look at me like that, Boy, or I'll let your sister eat your donuts." Show him who's boss. gyeah.

Cabrito. No? Ovejas.

Our neighbors have goats. Every morning, as I take the POSS2 or POSS3 to school, we discuss the goats in the car. They typical conversation involves Reanie saying, "Goat," followed by "Neyeyeyey."

Then Budifer will say, "Sheep."

Reanie and/or Noah (and me until I caught on) will say, "No. GOAT."

Then Budrick says, "Sheep."

Reanie will say, "No, Buddy. GOAT!"

Then Bude says, "Sheep."

Reanie responds, "No, Buddy. That's a goat. Goats go 'neyeyeye." Sheeps's go 'baaaaaaah.'"

Then Christian says, "Goat."

Today, Reanie responded, "NO, BUDDY. THAT'S A SHEEP!"


Women.


Now look at the picture of the kid below, and tell me he's not doing that to her on purpose.

Buon Compleanno

Hey, I'm two!

Budreaux's Birthday Party!

The truck full of straw bales before we made the fort/castle.

Lawson was King of the fort/castle.

I can stand on the chair because it is my party.

Mmmm. Cake.

Yeehaw! (look closely at Anelise coming down the slide)

Busted.

Bude and his buddy Zachary partied until they dropped.

Whupped.

as always, if you want a better look at the picture, just click on it.

Uh oh...

...guess who got a cell phone that takes pictures.



First picture I took.

OK, that's not true, but Mama wouldn't let me post the first picture I took. Now this blog has upgraded to being like every other blog.

I'm so technologically behind the times. I bet nobody has Intellivision anymore.

Good thing I got dressed for work today

Some guy pulled up in our drive way a little bit ago. Had a bike on his car, and he was all decked out in cycling gear. Complete with yellow Team Discovery commemorative jersey.

Not recognizing the person, I opened the window, asked in a friendly way, "What's up?" and waited for a response.

He gave me a little head nod that told me "yo, what's up with you" or maybe it was a head nod with a little shake telling me, "What do you think I'm doing?"

Not satisfied with the exchange, I simply kept looking at him with my head out of the window from my office (no screen). After not even getting further acknowledgement from him, I quickly went to the computer to see if I had some meeting with someone today, perhaps explaining our visitor.

Nothing on the plan for today involving riding with the yellow jersey type.

So I went downstairs and outside to get a closer look. Turns out that this guy thought it was OK (it is, really) to park in our driveway because he's seen lots of cyclists here leaving for rides.

I explained the situation and told him that he could park here anyway, but I guess he was a little struck by it all. He apologized ("Sorry, my bad"), got in his car, and started to drive off. By the time he was at the end of the driveway, I pulled his bike from the grass to the driveway so he could see it...

He drove back up to me, got out of the car, shook his head, and without saying a word, put his bike back on the trunk rack and drove away. Without securing the bike to the rack.

When he hit the gravel transition from our driveway to the road, the bike hopped off one of the arms of the rack. He stopped, got out of the car, put it back on the rack (without securing it again), and drove off.

I'm trying to get back to work, but I keep getting stuck thinking about this strange occurance. Which ranks, in strangeness, higher than ranger humming "Girls just wanna have fun."

If this doesn't clean me out, nothing can

Budrick crawled into our bed too early and too late last night/this morning. Too early to really get up myself, but too late to put him back in his bed and think I could get more sleep.

So I made myself useful by throwing lunch together for Mama and Big Boy. Made some smoothies for everyone (once it was time for everyone to get up anyway, since the blender doesn't have a 'snooze' feature). But mio sforzo migliore came from the oat bran muffins I made.

Of course these are made from scratch. Do you think Chloe keeps a mix in her pantry?

OK, now I'll ge tback to work

When I get geeked on Italy stuff, guys like the Beaner roll their eyes or call BS on me. But here's a map of one of the most beautiful places in the world.

There, in the upper right, you can see Taceno and Cortenova, and a little southwest of there is a place called Esino Lario (which is usually part of the Giro di Lombardia route). Well, the cabin that Nuccia left Chloe is on the road between those two places. Now look across the lake at the tip there. What do you see? Bellagio. That's right. A little south of there? Madonna di Ghisallo.

Need help with the scale of the map? It is about 10K from the left edge of the map to the right.

Here's something more for the bike geeks. Third picture from the bottom...the one of the lake...that's the lake separating Bellagio and Esino Lario. On just the other side of the mountain is the cabin.

OK, sorry. Just got all "homesick" there for a moment. I'll eat some pasta and be alright.

So, who wants to go?

Angel Fire crew...do you remember?

I almost sort of do. Anyway, I got the iTunes spitting songs as I work. The Divinyls I Touch Myself is playing. Good trip. Good times. We owned that place, eh Brad?

Working the fields

We had all of the kids working the field the other day. Before the POSS2 got home with Mama, Noah and I were out in the pasture working on the 400m track we're building for running and riding ove rthe fall/winter.

It is pretty well cut in now. We're hoping for some rain to help the good grass take and finish off the goat head/sticker burrs for good, but in the meantime, we keep plugging away at it.

On Monday, I was ready to give it another cutting, but since we were expecting some rain, I wanted to clear the cow crap off of the trail. Make for better walking and running when out there in the dark.

So, Noah and I were shoveling the crap into the wheel barrrow. He was working pretty hard. Had to remind him that the faster we got it done, the less time we were working with shit, but we got it done.

When we got to the last 100m, I hollered to him, "Are you having fun?" He couldn't hear me since he had his playstation thing headphones on (he can listen to music with it--he was listening to Beastie Boys). He took out the headphones, asked "What?" and I repeated. His response was, "Well, I'm not having fun, but I'm doing OK."

Just as we finished the shovel work, Mama arrived with the POSS2, and they got on the lawn tractor with me, and we got to work cutting the track even closer to the ground. They helped drive.

The track is just about 400m long. 100m is a down slope, and about 50m-ish is flat, and the rest is uphill-ish. But really, it is all pretty flat. Just feels more uphill when you are out there. I've ridden my road bike out there and not picked up anything in the tires, so I think we've got it cleaned pretty good. It is about 8.5 feet wide all the way around.

We'll have some sort of play/training out there in the coming months.

Do you remember your first real bike ride?

I remember riding with Matt McCullough at SWT and we got excited about doing rides that seemed so far to us.

Anyway, Noah and I went out for 13.5 miles today. He's been off the bike, and I've been off the bike even more. But we knocked it out.

I've felt less fatigue after doing 120 mile rides before. Long, long way to go.

Hold Your Line (and nobody is wearing a helmet)

About 3 min of pure entertainment.. Work safe, too.

Must eat

To continue on this narcissistic theme, I am so frikkin' hungry to be a bike racer again. I'm chomping at the bit to get to training. But I catch myself when I realize I'm going to be doing 15-20 mile rides for awhile, and those will make me tired.

Long way to go.

For Crying Out Loud

I'm so done with The Racing Post. Not that anybody really cares, but dang, I just don't want to be in those pages anymore.

Why?

Doesn't really matter, but it is safe to say that even if I do still own the thing, I definitely can't control what is printed in its pages. Not even when it is my own damn column.

Gump says, "And that's all I got to say about that."

Uh oh

Upon waking from her afternoon nap, Reanie told me, "Santa is making my presents."