Product Plug - Ortlieb bike panniers

I have biked to work for over 13 years. The first 12 years I had panniers that were given to me by an ex - the fabric was durable, but several years ago they started falling off my bike whenever I'd go over a bump. Not a good way to start or end the day. But, me being thrifty (cheap) I never got new ones.

Finally I decided I had had enough, and I was worth it, dammit, so did research and went out and bought Ortlieb bike panniers. They are the BEST. They have a great on/off the rack system that takes just seconds, and they are HUGE (today I had to take my violin to work, and it worked putting it in one - yes, it stuck out some but was secure). Yes, I missed out on getting the new ones which have an internal pocket (Gnome), but such is life. And they are waterproof. Really truly. No more worrying about my stuff in the event of a possible afternoon thunderstorm.

I am so happy every time I use them.

This just in -- Microwave popcorn kills

Many people love the buttery smell of microwave popcorn, but the savory aroma has recently been linked to a lethal lung disease in factory workers who make the popular snack.

Read More

Now we know why the smell travelled so far when anyone popped popcorn. It was reaching its evil tenticles out to kill us.

Risks

The below poem is something I kind of lived by when I was in high school, and beyond I guess. It helped move me from a shy, nerdy, pimply, glasses-wearing, Farrah Fawcett-styled hair wearing, awkward teen to the person I am today... Thus, it's been around a lonnnng time.


To laugh is to risk appearing the fool
To weep is to risk being called sentimental
To reach out to another is to risk involvement

To expose feelings is to risk showing your true self
To place your ideas and your dreams before the crowd is to risk being called naïve

To love is to risk not being loved in return
To live is to risk dying
To hope is to risk despair and,
To try is to risk failure

But risks must be taken
The greatest risk in life is to risk nothing
The person who risks nothing... does nothing, has nothing, and becomes nothing

He may avoid suffering and sorrow
But he simply cannot learn and feel and change and grow and love and live
Chained by his servitude, he is a slave
He has forfeited his freedom

Only the person who risks is truly free.

Speaking of Death - Pillsbury Funeral

Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment
community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection
and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.

Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities
turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs.. Butterworth, Hungry
Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies and
Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours.

Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a
man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in
show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was
not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on
half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he still
was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for
millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough, two children: John Dough
and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by
his elderly father, Pop Tart.

The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

You vote: Who is more insane?

My husband:

Leaving Saturday to go on a week long trip, half of which is hiking by himself in the wilderness on a trail for which the description notes: do not hike by yourself as this area is frequented by mountain lions.

Me:

Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane with a parachute.


On a side note, he's been nice to me ever since I said to him if he wasn't, I'd hide kitty treats and/or catnip in his backpack. He says that he's bringing along a big ball of yarn to throw if they come after him.

And we had a conversation tonight about what we'd want if each one of us died. Semi-serious. Good to know info. He's kind of upset because he wouldn't get insurance money if I went splat on a skydive. Oh well...sucks to be him.

Hell in North Texas

There have been many a post this week about bugs and pests and such. Found out about this huge spiderweb in N. Texas. Title of the article: Got Arachnophobia? Here’s Your Worst Nightmare. Go read to get the creepy crawlies. [shiver]

Sandbag, or, This is rated a 5.5?!

Back from a climbing trip, and just up from a nap. Nice almost ending to the weekend...

We had yet another lucky wonderful weather weekend for climbing. Not too hot, a slight breeze, lots of sunshine. One would think that such perfect weather would inspire greatness in climbing. Unfortunately that is not always the case. Day 1, neither my husband nor I could do anything all that well. Day 2, my husband and I met up with 2 friends, and three of us had a difficult climbing day. Actually, on the rock we ran into 2 more people we knew, and one of them was having a bad day, so that made 4 out of 6.

Part of the problem is how the climbs are rated where we were climbing (admittedly a small part). People started climbing this formation (at least as recorded, and in a 'technical' way) in the early 40's. In fact, the Army used it to train mountain troops for action during the war. In the 50's and 60's the climbers put up a lot of routes. Keep in mind the gear available was much less sophisticated than we have today. These people were amazing climbers to climb some of the climbs they did with the gear they had.

And in climbing, everything is relative. A person who is short will find a certain climb to be much harder than a tall person, and vice versa on a different climb. A person climbing in the 60's or 70's might put up a route and rate it a 5.5 relative to the climbs that had been done at that time, or relative to their ability (which, if you are a potential 5.12 climber, a 5.5 is a walk in the park).

So, my friend and I went to do a 5.5 to make ourselves feel better for not being able to do a 'simple' 5.7 (with an ankle-breaker first section that our burly friend placed gear for us, and a committing in your face move off a ledge later - which we walked away from). The first pitch I was glad she did, because it had a few chimneys, which are not my favorite. Wedging yourself between two pieces of rock, often without wonderful holds, and using opposing force to get yourself up is really freaky sometimes. Yes, even on a 5.5 climb.

The first pitch is lonnnng - 130 feet, and ends on a nice ledge of rock. Wonderful views into the valley behind us, and we could also see our friends down below on the ledge. I was slated for the second pitch, which was only 50 feet long.

If you had a board on the street that was 1.5-2 feet wide, you would have no problem walking along this 15-20 feet board. But imagine this board 200 feet up in the air and separated from the wall of rock by about a foot of space that seemed bottomless. And no gear to be placed between where you stand and where you are to end up. And you might know why my palms started sweating.

The thought of getting down on my butt and scooting along it flashed through my mind for a second. But my pride ruled and I walked it. I got a few pieces in, and felt much better. Until I realized where I had to go next. There was a bulge at the end of this traverse, and you had to scoot around onto the face of it. And just air underneath you. And only one really good foothold. But a really good handhold.

So there's me, holding onto the wonderful handhold, hopping from one foot to the other on the good foothold, with every hop needing to look down into space to make sure my other foot gets on the hold, trying to find a place to put gear so I would feel comfortable making the next move. My husband sees me and calls up to me, howy're doing? "I'm in a rough spot and can't talk now!" Though I normally don't like people giving me advice or ideas when I'm climbing, my friend the belayer said to me - how about where your hands are? DUH! Can't see the forest for the trees or whatever metaphor is best. I got a piece in and felt much better.

The next good hold was just out of reach (remember back to how some climbs are easier for taller people?) so I had to make a technical move to get it, and then made it to a spot where I was safe.

Holy Crap! I pity the modern day 5.5 climber who gets on that route. It's amazing, but so heady, and a true sandbag. (when a climb is rated lower than what it truly is) I had never done the climb because it's 'only' a 5.5, but so glad we did it.