NooooooOOOOOoooooOOO!

This announcement makes me very, very sad. My favorite fabric store in the world is closed. I was planning to spend all afternoon there this Saturday after dropping Mr. A at the airport. Now 'm going to have to do some fast-n-furious googling to try and figure out where else to go, as my time outside the 3-mile route between house and office is limited to maybe once or twice a month and I have no intention of returning home empty handed.

Or maybe I'll spend the day in San Francisco instead. Britex is still there, isn't it? I'm almost afraid to look.

Moth, the movie

One of the cool things I'm doing at work right now is learning how to use all the video editing software we have so I can start making little movies for the Web site. This video is from last year, and this is my first attempt at changing the sound track. It isn't what I was listening to when I taped the moth, but it kind of feels like the way I felt as I was watching it.

P.S. At the thrift store today I found a heavy linen Eileen Fisher skirt in perfect condition, with enough fabric to make a really great smock-type dress from a pattern I have recently perfected, based loosely on an old dress I used to love that finally disintegrated. The skirt is so beautiful I almost hate to cut it up, but the dress will be even better and a lot more fun to wear. I can't wait!

Straps

Inspired (perpetually, it seems) by the great writermama, I present today a shot of a kind of strange trend I'm seeing a lot of this summer – the exposed bra strap. The big photo is just for context; because this is such a small town, I'm providing the detail in a more anonymous fashion, like so:

Note that this isn't just a bra strap, it's also a camisole strap. So this woman has on not one or even two layers, but three layers of tight, supportive knitty-type fabric. Sounds hot to me, but then what do I know? She also has amazing skin and hair, and a really cute baby. The stripes are cute too, I think. Because I have a highly patterned skin, I normally almost never wear patterned fabrics of any kind – with all my freckles it just makes everything a little too busy and exhausting – but I've always had a thing for stripes.

About the location: it's one of my favorite Thai cafes, which happens to be less than a block from my office. It has eight tables and a beautiful pressed-tin ceiling.



In other news, remember how I was complaining about how everything is supposed to be so goddamn speedy, cheerful and productive these days? Mr. A has the tv on in the other room and I just heard an investment banking commercial, which ends with the words, "Do we let the wind just blow, or the sun just shine? No. This is America – we put them to work."

This is exactly what I'm talking about. If banks and ad agencies now think they're in charge of what the sun and the wind are allowed to do, well, then ... I just don't know what. Fortunately I'm pretty sure the sun and wind don't watch television.

Again with the foxtails

Imagine having one of these stuck up in your sinuses.

It seems like not that long ago when I spent all that money getting the last foxtail out of Tater's nose. Yesterday he had another one. You know things are bad when it feels like a relief to hear it's "only" going to be a few hundred bucks ... bucks I would dearly have loved to spend on some amazing boots, or a silver bike with a step-through frame, or beautiful fabric for a brown flowered skirt with ruffles, or 82 tubes of my new favorite chocolate-flavored lipgloss, or any number of other items that have caught my fancy of late.

Of course none of these things is anywhere near as important to me as my darling dog, and short of keeping him in the house all the time or making him wear scuba gear over his head when he goes out, there doesn't seem to be much you can do to prevent a country dog from snuffing up a foxtail every now and then. It's just money you have to resign yourself to spending, if you really love your dog.

I think I'm still gonna get those boots, though. The ones I've worn through the last several winters are too worn out to wear to work anymore, and that's as good an excuse as any. Not that I necessarily need an excuse. This week was the first day I noticed the light has changed – the days are definitely getting shorter – and it's got me smiling and looking forward to fall. I love all the colors and layers and textures of fall – wool tights and sweaters, leather boots, hats, jackets, gloves, all of it. I always find it hard to get dressed when it's so hot I have to limit myself to wearing only one or two things at a time.


Summer this year seems to be passing in a blank, dreamy sort of way. Aside from my trip to the Rockies (this photo is from the beginning of the hike my sisters and I took the kids on in Boulder – shockingly beautiful and a place I definitely want to explore in more detail as soon as I can get around to it) this summer has been fairly uneventful, every day very much like every other, and I mostly like it like that.

I read a phrase in a book the other day, a book about a mountain man sort of guy who was getting flack from his family for not being more social – the phrase was something along the lines of "before the modern mandate to be perpetually available." I've been thinking about that in terms of general activity, not just social activity – the modern mandate to be constantly connecting with other people, doing something, creating something, expressing something, aggressively exerting your will upon the world – lest you be accused of not "living life to its fullest" or in some other way tragically failing to fulfill your obligations to the universe. Or something like that.

Aside from the work I do for money, I've accomplished very little this summer that I could show to anyone and say, "See this? I made that." And yet I've been enjoying myself more than I can remember doing in a long, long time. I feel relaxed, empty, clear. Quiet. Content.

I've read that this cultural obsession with speed, aggression and activity is just that – cultural – something people learn to value, or not, and that not every culture values that kind of attitude and approach to life. I wonder what it would be like to live someplace where it's okay to want to go slowly through your life, to take lots of time alone without doing anything, to be silent and observe a new situation at first instead of always feeling guilty for not trying harder (not even wanting) to make something amazing happen, be the life of the party, etc. Seems like that would be kind of nice.

Blue suede shoes

Don't want to go too far off track in my Friday fashion reportage. I spotted these at a deli the other day and couldn't resist. They're the kind of shoes I always wish I could wear ... but then, not really. I tried on a similar pair this morning at a thrift shop and could hardly walk in them, plus they were sort of pinchy around the ankles. I do love it when other people wear them, though.

I've kind of been getting into thrifting again lately. Since we no longer have anyplace in town to buy sewing supplies I mainly browse for fabrics, not necessarily clothing – it's amazing how much you can get out of a pretty flowered skirt or corduroy maxi dress, if you take it apart carefully. Today I found an enormous (size 3x) apple-green silk charmeuse dress shirt I'm going to cut up for lingerie. Yes, I'm teaching myself to make underwear. Silk is tricky to sew on because it's so lightweight and slippery, but I figure for a couple bucks per shirt I can afford to experiment.

(Speaking of fashion, here's a picture of my adorable niece A., who always makes me smile. Normally I would never post kid photos, especially since they're not my kids, but this one, I think, is anonymous enough to be okay. Isn't she a sweetie? She loves her sunglasses, and I thought they were great too – in fact, I have a green rhinestone pair almost exactly like them. A beautiful child after my own heart.)

In other news of my burgeoning creativity, I've been noodling around a bit on this beaut of a yard-sale uke a friend gave me after hearing me say I'd been wanting to get another one. Tonight I taught myself to play "My Blue Heaven" and "I'm a Believer" – two awesome songs! Gotta love those Monkees.

Astute observers may wonder why this instrument has only three of the usual four strings, and to them I will only say that it's not out of any lack of knowledge or effort on my part. A momentary lapse in attention, perhaps, though I did try; I went to the music store (we do still have a nice little music store) to pick up some strings and it was only after I got home that I noticed that the ones he'd given me were for the wrong tuning. Fortunately for me, as it turns out, it's even easier to play the ukulele on three strings than it is on four – and sure, the songs might sound vaguely not-quite-right, but they're still recognizable, and it's definitely easier on my tender, unpracticed fingertips.

And finally, here's a picture of three kinds of salt available at our Whole Foods – each lovely and fascinating in its own way. The white one is made of gorgeous, delicate, snowy-white flakes, the one in the middle is coarse-grained with some kind of minerals and herbs mixed in, and the black one didn't come out so well in this photo but in real life it's jet black and glittery, like a little bowl of black diamonds. The label says the ingredients are "sea salt and activated charcoal."

Does anyone know what one would do with a salt like that? I'd love to see some recipe ideas; we like weird salt at our house. Gray, red, green, black – we'll try anything. We've also been a little obsessed lately with those dark chocolate covered sea salt caramels – all the stores seem to be selling them around here. Is that happening where you are? Or is it a trend that's already passed? Actually it must be at least new-ish because just tonight I saw for the first time a new variety of Häagen-Dazs® built around these very same caramels. Generally I don't like chocolate pieces in ice cream (chocolate is best enjoyed at or slightly above room temperature, in my opinion), but I'm pretty sure we're going to have to give this one a try.

Heavyosity

Yesterday I rode into the garage all loaded down with groceries and Mr. A said, "Wait a minute – don't put any of that stuff away yet." He ran into the house and came back out carrying the bathroom scale.

"Stand on here and check the weight, and then pick up the bike," he said.

In this way I learned that my average daily load coming home from work weighs in at a staggering 75 lbs. Of this, 37 lbs. belong to the bike itself (according to the company Web site), which means I'm going around town with almost 40 lbs. of stuff stuck to the bike or stashed in my panniers pretty much every day. That's basically a whole big bag of dog food's worth of stuff! And what that means is that when I'm also carrying that bag of food, I'm moving over a hundred pounds worth of stuff up my road, in addition to the weight of my own body (which number I'm going to decline to mention right now).

Two thoughts. First, I am apparently stronger than I thought. That's cool. Also, I think I could stand to ponder some ways to lighten the load a bit. I'm not riding across the country!

I guess in a way I've come to think of the panniers the same way some people might think of the trunk of a car. More than just a space to load up with groceries or luggage, it's also a place to store all the extra stuff you might need someday while out and about: a mini bike pump, cargo net, bike lock and keys, Allen wrenches of various sizes, a neon-green waterproof jacket (that can probably go back in the garage until winter – but then, it makes such a great emergency flag!), a few nylon reusable shopping bags (neatly folded into its handy interior pocket, one bag is small enough to hide in my closed fist), the little surprise I keep meaning to leave on a friend's doorstep, three books I need to return to the library, an extra headlight (because my front light has been known to behave erratically), plus of course the messenger bag which fits perfectly into one pannier and is likewise loaded with wallet, cell phone, camera, emergency snack, test kit, notebook, sunscreen and all the other additional stuff one might expect to find in a big red messenger bag .... plus whatever groceries, bottles of water, etc. etc., not to mention any cool, useful or otherwise salvage-worthy debris I might happen to notice lying by the side of the road ....

Blah blah blah – the list goes on. The point being, I now have something to do this weekend, something satisfying: unload some of that weight. Silly to feel such a need to carry so much stuff around with me all the time ... though it is nice to know I'm pretty much prepared for anything.

Wide load

Yesterday afternoon I was starting to think about heading home from work when I suddenly remembered we were almost out of dog food. The feed store is the only place that carries the food we give them, so restocking is not as simple as just dropping by the supermarket on the way home – you have to plan ahead. Luckily I had remembered in time; they're open til 5:30.

All the way there I debated with myself over whether to get a small bag for tonight, and go back with the car some other time for the ginormous bag we usually get – or – to bite the bullet and strap the ginormous bag on the back of my bike. It's only 33 lbs., but that feels like kind of a lot on that last mile or so – uphill, I might add, though only slightly.

Anyway, I opted for the big bag. It wasn't as arduous as I remembered it, which says a lot for my increasing strength over the last few years of getting around mostly by bike. In the beginning I would probably have ended up walking the bike up the last stretch of road like a two-wheeled shopping cart. It felt good to ride it home, and to arrive only a little more exhilarated than usual. It also renewed my appreciation of myself for having lost even more weight than that in the last year – what a great relief, to not be carrying all that extra weight around all the time! – and got me a little bit excited about continuing to lose the rest of the weight I have left to lose. Taking that big bag of dog food off the bike and riding up and down the road again, just for comparison, was very instructive. It really did feel ... lighter.

Although at the same time I have to say I also in a weird way really enjoyed the heavier, more grounded feeling of riding with the extra weight. Yes, it's harder. But it feels stronger, somehow, and more deliberate. Definitely slower, which I don't see as necessarily a bad thing.

I feel a little strange at having linked this page from that Slow Bicycle page, knowing that it may bring some new readers here looking for another bike blog. I like the idea of a Slow Bicycle movement, and of encouraging people to ride for transportation and pleasure and health and style and for all other reasons in addition to speed, sport, lycra, competition, or whatever other reasons will get people out on bikes ... but I guess I'm just not much of a joiner, and reading many of these pages in which mostly young-ish fashion-conscious women agonize over whether to get this kind of trendy imported European granny bike or that kind, in pink or red or classic black, wicker or wire basket, in front or back (what do you think???), or indignantly defend their right – nay, perhaps even obligation – to wear heels while riding ... No offense to anyone who finds herself in that category, but it kind of feels like just another cool persons' club organized around elitism and exclusivity, and that doesn't appeal to me very much.

But, whatever. I love to ride my bike, and am lucky enough to be able to ride it every day, and I do so. So while this is clearly not what you might call a "bike blog," I guess it's okay to leave that link.

P.S. If you're going to try to carry something the size of a 33 lb. bag of dog food on the back of your bike, I highly recommend this stretchy elastic cargo net:

It only costs eight bucks and it's super strong and versatile – you can take off the hooks and attach them anywhere to secure just about any kind of load.

The Slow Bicycle Movement

I haven't joined anything in awhile so what the heck – here's a button and a link to the Slow Bicycle Movement. It sounds like a good idea to me; I ride for transportation, pleasure and exercise, and I pretty much never go fast. One of these days maybe I'll do a post showing some of the gear I've found to be useful on my two-wheeled adventures. The bike I've been riding comes standard with almost everything I would've added, including lights and racks, but there are a few more things that have really made a difference – made it possible, really, for me to use a bike instead of a car for almost all my transportation.

Even though I'm madly in love with this bike, I have been sort of considering getting another one, just for fun and to add a little variety to my life. If it seems like an unnecessary luxury or an extravagance, well, I guess it probably is. But just a few tanks of gas or a half a year of auto insurance would easily pay for the kind of bike I have in mind, and when I think of it that way ... maybe it's not so awful to just daydream about spicing things up a bit with an alternative ride.

A few years ago I was obsessed with those beautiful black Dutch bikes that everyone seems to be riding now all of a sudden, which has caused the magic to drain out of that idea like silicon out of a leaky breast implant .... I don't want a bike that draws any special attention to itself. I also do not want a bike that looks like an adult-sized version of the dream bike you begged for when you were a pigtailed little girl with missing teeth and jelly sandals. It actually makes me feel a little embarrassed when I see adults outfitting themselves like children ... like the other day when I saw a graying hipster wannabe in striped t-shirt, propeller beanie and enormous horn-rimmed glasses with masking tape on the bridge, riding down the sidewalk the wrong way on a brand new totally tricked-out bright red cruiser decorated at the factory with streamers, bells, pinwheels and other corporate-sanctioned schwag. His appearance made such an impression on me that I looked at him twice, thinking maybe he was "special" in some way ... and maybe he was. But to me he mostly just looked like a grown man disguised as a ten-year-old boy. What is the purpose of such a display? Is he trying to express his playfulness? A sense of whimsy and fun? Is this the twenty-first century version of the midlife crisis?

ANYway. I guess I am kind of a snob when it comes to bikes, but the bottom line is I like it when people ride bikes, period. Whatever kind of bike will get people out of their cars and into the saddle is fine with me.

For myself, my main goal for the new bike I'm thinking of is that it should have the one feature I wanted when I started shopping for my current bike, that I ended up deciding to do without when I realized just how perfect the new bike was (except for that one missing feature) – and that is, a women's or step-through frame. It's just more comfortable to ride, and I like the way it looks, and with a really low frame I can ride in a wider variety of dresses.


I rode one of these Italian bikes a few years ago and liked it a lot, but it wasn't really what I was looking for at the time. Maybe I'll try to find another one somewhere now. I love the internal gearing and hub generator on my black bike and this one has both of those features too. Plus, the frame is super-low in front of the pedals – the lowest I've ever seen on any bike – which makes it very comfortable to step on and off no matter what you're wearing. Kind of a weird look, but I don't mind that.

Or maybe I'll get another cool old bike somewhere and renovate it. That can be a good option too, if the frame is solid. I have a couple of other old bikes that are fun and interesting, but I don't ride them much because they're just not as stable or comfortable as my main bike. On the up side, I've enjoyed painting them and dressing them up a little, because decorated bikes are only embarrassing if they're decorated at the factory – painting your own is awesome! In fact I've just started making these funny removable decorations for bikes to give to a couple of my friends, kind of like a little corsage that you can tie onto your handlebars or top tube or wherever you like.

Do you ride a bike you would like to decorate with a bicycle corsage? Leave me a comment or email me at tinarama at gmail and I'll send you one!

Window seat(Flying twice as fast in the opposite direction)

Just returned from a trip to Utah and Colorado during which I experienced this strange phenomenon while watching another jet zooming east at the same time I was zooming west toward home. Ever seen that? I actually did a double-take when it caught my eye through the window; the other plane seemed to be moving so fast it was almost like watching a UFO speeding across the sky.

I love flying above clouds. It feels so peaceful up there, especially when I'm sitting next to the window, because if I look out of it I can't see any of the other people – only the empty, beautiful, silent sky. It's just like ... flying ...

Trip report to follow. For now it's hot as ache-EEEE-double toothpicks and I just came in from two hours of lying completely submerged (except for my head and hands) in a tub of cold water out on the patio, reading (by actual lantern light, which seems appropriate) Wallace Stegner's epic account of the Mormon Trail experience. I've finally succeeded in lowering my core temperature enough to contemplate sleep ... so that is what I'm going to try to do.