3 Bad Boys

One way or another, they are all probably on Santa's "Naughty List" this year. Well, maybe not Miles.

Winter Blooms 4

True to form, ours is definitely a Saturnalia Cactus.

A Bad Hair Day

Me being Justin Bieber before I fixed my hair.

Ho Saturnalia!

Saturnalia became one of the most popular Roman festivals. It was marked by tomfoolery and reversal of social roles, in which slaves and masters ostensibly switched places, much like the Lord of Misrule in later Christian celebrations.

Saturnalia was introduced around 217 BCE to raise citizen morale after a crushing military defeat at the hands of the Carthaginians.[1] Originally celebrated for a day, on December 17, its popularity saw it grow until it became a week-long extravaganza, ending on the 23rd. Efforts to shorten the celebration were unsuccessful. Augustus tried to reduce it to three days, and Caligula to five. These attempts caused uproar and massive revolts among the Roman citizens.

Saturnalia involved the conventional sacrifices, a couch (lectisternium) set out in front of the temple of Saturn and the untying of the ropes that bound the statue of Saturn during the rest of the year. A Saturnalicius princeps was elected master of ceremonies for the proceedings. Besides the public rites there were a series of holidays and customs celebrated privately. The celebrations included a school holiday, the making and giving of small presents (saturnalia et sigillaricia) and a special market (sigillaria). Gambling was allowed for all, even slaves.

Saturnalia was a time to eat, drink, and be merry. The toga was not worn, but rather the synthesis, i.e. colorful, informal "dinner clothes"; and the pileus (freedman's hat) was worn by everyone. Slaves were exempt from punishment, and treated their masters with (a pretense of) disrespect. The slaves celebrated a banquet: before, with, or served by the masters. Yet the reversal of the social order was mostly superficial; the banquet, for example, would often be prepared by the slaves, and they would prepare their masters' dinner as well. It was license within careful boundaries; it reversed the social order without subverting it.[2]

The customary greeting for the occasion is a "Io, Saturnalia!" — Io (pronounced "e-o") being a Latin interjection related to "ho" (as in "Ho, praise to Saturn").

Winter Blooms 3

Chilled Out

So many little blog entries for me today, mainly because I am just lying around waiting to see if I am getting a cold or not. I'm sitting around, feeling mainly gross, trying to tell myself it's all in my head. The problem is, it is literally in my head; I have kinda sore throat and back of my nose and my eyes are burning.

I am feeling helpless to do anything and worry that even if I try to do something productive that I will just mess it up. I try talking to people I love and just seem to say the wrong things or get angry. I want to connect but my mind isn't stringing words together in thoughtful ways. Support becomes interference, a chat talk on the phone becomes a gripe session, and just trying to catching up is a chore that is more exhausting than it should be.

Sitting around inside as opposed to getting out for a while feels awkward but it is terribly cold. Wind chills have been in the negative digits so even walking outside in the breeze is painful. I have been getting my runs in just fine but today I can't find it in myself to do anything except sit like a bump.

What has given me a real smile this morning is The Ellen DeGeneres Show. Please don't tell me that is woman is really some type of mean snob. I really enjoy her humor, her compassion for others seems genuine and she is a vegan. I find myself smiling even just watching people dance on her show. I like the rapport she has with her DJ and the rest of her on air staff. Her guests seem thrilled to be there and she looks like she is having the time of her life. I don't like sitting around but am glad to watch Ellen's show when I have to.

I have also been reading a bunch of other folk's blogs. My eyes are tired and I have a bit of a headache but it's nice catching up and getting acquainted with what is going on with some other people with whom I share interests.

The meteorological winter has set in and because I have been out in it too much or picked up a little something while trapped indoors with so many people, today is a chill day for me.

Winter Blooms 2

Festive Photo

I found this photo of the Nittany Valley Half Marathon that I am in. I am last on the right. We are somewhere between miles 3 and 4 and I ended up passing all of these folks.

Thoughts from the Road - #1211

Back Tracking

The run down near Benner Springs on Thursday sounded so enjoyable that Jimmy the Eye chose that location for our run this morning. The morning was again a crisp 17° but instead of a crystal clear sky a persistent glowing haze and contrail tracks muted the sun's rays a bit.

We parked at the commuter lot at the top of the hill and carefully started down the, now maintained, steep road. I could see the road could easily be icy so we kept a careful pace. When we reached the bottom there were about 4 cars in the parking area but no one was around. Jimmy joked that because the gates were open and the hours allowed they were probably taking advantage of the visiting hours at the fish hatchery.

We chose to run on the trail the whole way to the no trespassing area. What a difference a couple of days made on this trail, there were tracks of all kinds! The first thing we noticed were something like sled tracks in and out. Sadly, with a trail of blood drops, we pieced together that it was a carcass of an animal that had been shot and dragged out by hunters. A gut pile, somewhat off trail, soon confirmed that.

What is sad and gross to some made for an amazing morning buffet for others! Jimmy was actually able to determine the location of the pile well before we reached it because it had drawn the attention of crows, ravens and 2 bald eagles! Pace calculator be damned, I stopped and took photos of these beauties!

Deer tracks were now all along the trail as well as what looked like bobcat and a bear! I saw them on the way out, made Jimmy the Eye come back as we jogged back and forth and I showed him again and again the super large pads along the trail. On the way back I stopped for a photo of one of the best with my hand for scale. Such an awesome print in the snow, leathery pad wrinkles and all.

Even the shoulders going up the hill had a lot more signed of animal life. I saw a lot of deer tracks and again some very large cat-like tracks. They were all welcome distractions and my lead legs took their time. A car needed to pass us and we went single file to make room, Jimmy the Eye took the lead. Zoom! Up that hill he went and I can't blame him, why prolong it when you can open up your stride.

Back at the car we stretched out and looked at our photos. We were both so pleased to have back tracked to get them and share them on this blog.

Thoughts from the Road - #1209

Making Tracks

I rose to a 16° morning but it was quite pretty out. The dawn had the promise of sunshine when the morning haze would give way. The road and yard had a thin layer of snow from the night before and I had to get out in it. I needed to shake the grumpy thoughts I was having lately and make some tracks even though it was time to take a day off.

I waited until the temperature rose to 19° until I set out around 8:30 AM. The sun had risen over the edge of Nittany Mountain by that time. I knew the battle between enjoying the protection my sunglasses offered and steaming them up to 70% opacity was on.

Still in a generally grumpy mood, I couldn't decide what route to take or how far to run. "I just want to see some f***ing beauty," I thought. Almost immediately I started remembering some of the things I loved about running in the snow when I started last January. There were some cat tracks going in their tell-tale straight line. Some leaf-bare trees now allowed me to see tiny bird's nests in their branches.

My pace was still quite slow; footing on the road was unknown and I wanted to take it easy. I was warming up quickly because of my general fatigue from the past week. The sun made it feel warmer than it was and the wind that had been relentless over the past week had finally abated. I easily broke into a sweat during the first mile.

Just beyond mile one I came across some solitary footprints in the snow. They were cutting behind a building where a letterbox used to be (gone, I assume, because the wall it was hidden behind has completely toppled). The shoes or boots the person wore had extremely pointy toes, no tread and the gap between the imprint of the ball of the foot and the small mark the heel made me imagine a pair of ridiculously high heeled boots. The the toes on these shoes were so pointy that impression of the front part of the tracks looked like a series of ice cream cones leading me to a snowy parking lot.

The tracks of the high heeled shoes made me think of a conversation I had with a couple who made fun of women who wore sneakers with their dress clothes until they reached their office buildings. Their attitude was that those women were wimps. I was shocked at their judgment and know that my reaction showed it. I didn't go into defending my reaction (that's right, I avoid confrontation) but will choose to look foolish in comfortable shoes over bunion surgery any day.

I lost the high healed shoe tracks just about the time I had to make a decision which way to go. Actually, following the tracks had taken me off the way I usually went and forced me downhill and onto Dreibelbis Road for a while. I had avoided this road for about a month because Jimmy the Eye warned me that there was a dead raccoon on it. I gave him heck a few nights ago when he turned our car onto Dreibelbis to use that road as a short cut. I told him that I had avoided seeing the dead raccoon for so long and then we had to drive by it. It was but a shell so I knew I could certainly run by it in the snow.

Darned if those same high healed prints weren't on the sidewalk along Dreibelbis. There they were, coming out of the swanky gated community where I never see anyone alive. A ghost in cruel shoes walked the same route I had, albeit in reverse.

I decided to turn up Shilo and run at least until Spring Valley Road and see the horses. I wanted to see more beauty and the prospect of the valleys and ridges from the road that leads down to the water treatment facility was quite nice. I told myself that if I saw any horses from Shilo, I would keep going down into Benner Springs because then I could have a double dose of beautiful images. I looked at the farm and the area where they let the horses out and I couldn't see any horses. I ran past the turn onto Spring Valley Road and tried to see if the horses were behind the barn. Still no horses. Hating to back track, I chose to continue on the way to Benner Springs.

After Shilo passes over route 220, it takes a long steep decent down to the Benner Springs Fish Hatchery. For the first time, I read a sign at the crest of the hill that warned the road from that point on was not regularly maintained in the winter. Today was a day of no maintenance. Choosing this long and tricky hill was the best decision I made all day. It was snow covered but not icy. The lack of wind as I descended into Spring Creek Canyon allowed the 1- 2" of snow to stay quaintly perched on the branches and dead goldenrod plants.

I decided to delay my return, a serious uphill, by crossing the bridge and running on the trail along Spring Creek. This was the first real snowfall since hunting season had started so I was wearing blaze orange. No cars were parked in the lot where the fishermen park and there seemed to be only one set of booted footprints in the freshly fallen snow on the trail.

It took me a while to sort out whether or not I might meet up with the booted person but I then determined that the same footprints also retraced their steps back to the parking area. I looked down through the enchanted canyon that was glittering with snow and knew I was indeed alone. This gave my heart such a lift and I looked ahead with joy and wonder I haven't felt since some of the hikes we had taken to find a new letterbox. That had been well over a year ago.

No animal tracks were on this trail, just the hearty bootprints of the person who had preceded me. I told myself that I would follow them for a while and if they passed the cabled gate so would I. They did and I decided to continue on to the series of pretty rapids I knew lay ahead.

When I heard the rushing water of Spring Creek, I knew the rapids were close ahead. There they were, glinting in the sunlight with just a hint of vapor rising off of the creek in the frigid morning air. When I reached the crest in the trail that was parallel with the rapids, I saw that the booted prints continued on. I wondered if I too should lengthen my journey yet again to the sign were trespassing was not allowed. A glance at my watch showed I had been on the go for 39 minutes and I knew the snowy hill was going to take a long time to climb. With my lead-like legs in the cold, turning around to descend the little rise was a good choice.

It was but a few yards after I had turned around where I had a good chuckle. Initially I was surprised to see an unfamiliar tread in the prints that lay in the snow in front of me. It was the first time I had ever seen the imprint of my trail running shoes and there were all of these tiny little added footprints to the route I had just taken! I deal with just a few difficulties of my smaller shoe size. Not every store carries a 6 in women's running shoes, if they do it sells out quickly and additional things like YakTracks don't accommodate that size running shoe at all. Seeing the little prints in the snow made me realize, they are kind of small for adult feet.

My return also had me wondering just how far the booted person had gone beyond the point I turned back. Were they hunting? Was hunting even allowed out here? Were they fishing? There was one place where the prints went off the main trail and down to the edge of the creek. I chose to follow them on my return trip to see if the stopped to fish along the way. They wandered here and there, following smaller trails that gave pretty vantage points to the stream before they finally met up with their own (and my) prints on the main trail. This person was just enjoying the area! They hadn't been hunting or fishing or walking a dog. They were out enjoying the beauty of the land just as I had set out to do on my run.

The booted tracks disappeared in the parking area exactly where a bunch of car tracks picked up. It was also the start of my climb up and out of Spring Creek Canyon. The snow made the climb even slower for me than the few times I had run this route before. I had only been able to make it to the top commuter lot without stopping to walk maybe 2-3 times and it was when I had been training for the Nittany Valley Half Marathon. I allowed the very few rabbit and squirrel tracks to distract me as I followed my own tiny prints up and up and up. I took the hill so slowly that I made it to the top without walking and I think I was even less winded than usual.

Retracing my route went pretty well for the most part. The wind picked up and made me struggle between wanting my mittens on or off. I opted for off but pulled my coat sleeves way down to keep the chilly wind off of my bare skin. I know the blaze orange vest added visibility as I ran back Shilo Road but as I got closer to home it felt kind of silly. Sometimes retracing my route can be a bore but following my own tracks that had lead me to wonderful scenes of beauty kept the final miles fresh.

Winter Blooms

Potential for a lot of blooms this year!

Nittany Valley Half Marathon

The Cold; 28° and 15mph winds.

The Crowd; 650+ runners at the Ag Arena.

The Start; about 10 minutes late as we stood there freezing.

The Hill; Park Avenue after turning off Orchard Road.

The Finish; 2:14:06 - my personal best even with the added hills.

A couple of different ways to look at the elevation of the course.

Letterboxing, Mr. E. P. A.

Checking out a hunch.

The very cute but wrong bridge.

A cool tree on the creek.

Narrowly escaping death from falling branches and muzzle loaders.

The right bridge! Two successful first finds!!

Thoughts from the Road - #1130

Running Away From Home

When rushing to get out to run, don't forget your gum.

I love the feel of my calves being splashed with the thin layer of water that I kick up from the road.

Soaring red tail hawks lift my heart.

A grey fox killed by traffic and lying dead along Rock Rd. breaks my heart.

When you run in the cold rain no one can tell if you are crying or not.

The Perfect Meal

The weather forced us to slightly alter our plans this Thanksgiving day. Freezing rain and sleet made us begrudgingly punt on running in our first Turkey Trot this morning.

We knew the weather might have an impact even last evening as we shopped for a few groceries. No, we didn't stock up on bread and milk but bought a single TastyKake Pumpkin Pie to split today with what ever meal we pulled together.

We didn't have the scent of hot turkey fat to wake up to like I can remember 40 years ago. As Jim decorated our indoor Norfolk Island Pines, thus dubbing them our our Yule Trees for the year, I threw together a lunch of left overs.

Left over Tofurky sandwich slices on some seeded rye with a healthy pile of mixed greens, a few wedges of tomato, a dollop of spiced butternut squash, perfect avocado slices and the condiments of Vegenaise® and a cranberry apple chutney made the most perfect Thanksgiving meal.

No, I fibbed. What made it perfect was the company. We weren't surrounded by every member of our loving family but Jim and I had each other. We munched a Dagwood sized sandwich and smiled as we did the best we could to make the holiday feel festive. I am thankful for Jim's heart that lifts me on the gray and gloomy days. Redefining each stage of life is a challenge but with him I am up to it.This is a similar sandwich, the real one disappeared before I got it photographed.

A Close Approximation

Kinda like a holiday but still not the same.

I Don't Like Piña Coladas

What I really don't like is the number one song that brought in 1980, The Piña Colada Song. The lyrics tell of a guy that decides to cheat on his "old lady" because he is bored with her. In the end (the double double twist), the song makes out like it's all cool because the personal ad he answers turns out to be hers. I think this song and whole attitude is as sickening as the syrupy farce of a tropical beverage it's named after.

Mountain View

One calm day last week.

Crazy November

I will start with a Happy Wedding Anniversary wish to my favorite young folks. I know they will both enjoy this photo of their favorite cat and Dadzmo.Miles completely relaxed.

Nights have been quite chilly but days like today are warm enough to take advantage of airing out the down comforter and drying some laundry on the line. Not every day is sunny, warm or long enough to dry clothes fully but I got an early start today.

Fresh scents infused by nature!

Turkey Day

In 1939, President Franklin D. Roosevelt changed Thanksgiving from the fourth to the third Thursday in November to create more shopping days before Christmas. Would you be ready today?

DL>DNF>DNS

Firstly - kudos to Jimmy the Eye for completing his first 10K race in the 10th annual Big Valley 10k!! His time was a smart 59:09!

I got second place in my women's age category for my time; it was a PR*. It was the first time my 10k time was under an hour in a race and this beautiful course was loaded with hills.


Funny thing is, I also placed last in my age category since there were only 2 of us that ran. That gave me a chuckle and made me think a little about what the silver medal I held at the end stood for. Everyone who ponied up an entrance fee got a t-shirt. Even though I have a policy of not wearing mine until I cross the finish line, I still got the shirt just for entering. Not everyone who entered got a medal nor did every finisher.

I remembered a post from a running message board about a fellow who knew he was probably going to be last in the race he entered. He was dreading being followed the whole route by the ever present ambulance and the course clean up crew. A wise master runner told him that DL* was better than DNF* with is even better than DNS*.

I chose to enter, run and was able to finish. I wasn't dead last, I was stride for stride with Jimmy the Eye right up to the finish line. There were even a few more runners that came in during the next 13 minutes. My medal, I decided, might be for last in my age group of women who finished but well ahead of those who didn't toe the line. I have worked hard to get where I am and I am enjoying the journey.

***
DL = Dead Last
DNF = Did Not Finish
DNS = Did Not Start
PR = Personal Record

Good Eats!

What would we do without good friends to provide us with delicacies? Our palates would be bored indeed. First Angrist blessed us with a quart (now down to a PINT) of home made kimchi. The next treat came from the Rh Factor - a full stalk of fresh brussel sprouts!!

The best part was how it was presented! Rh marched the staff of life into Authur's bar at Otto's! The rest of the patrons were green with envy as I sat with it like a porn... oops... PROM queen and her bouquet. J, Pipe and I had to all try one fresh off of the stalk. We all agreed they were scrumptious, especially with the stout!

Here is the green man before we harvested many for supper...

... and the boys checking things out.

Thoughts from the Road - #1105

False Summits & Divine Stubbornness

A plateau I am on has not given way to anything other than more gradual uphills. Looking back upon the third week in October when everything seemed to be coming together seems like a fabrication, a dream. Then I had speed and endurance and never felt better.

After the Dry Valley Half I have been struggling with so much. Recovery has been longer and less successful. The colder weather that has finally set is like lead weight strapped to every part of my body. I have no real goal, nothing to look forward to, nothing to dread enough to keep me moving.

It's hard to keep on when I can't perceive progress. Even when it feel like I might have a little victory or a spark of something to shoot for on the horizon it tends to disappear like a cruel mirage. It's uphill all over again.

I am looking for a way to keep at least a snail's pace of forward momentum. I am looking for my divine stubbornness that can look past the obstacles. I need the patience to heal before forging ahead. I need the guts to stick it out for the long haul instead of quitting because the grind of it all is just too much.

Lack of sunlight, the death of my only living aunt, family unrest, my sister's illness, my swollen joints, my pulled muscle, computer woes, property management, no glittering holiday to tempt me, and extra financial burdens feel like hill upon hill in front of me. As I crest each one, hoping for a downhill, I find each is but a false summit and I must pull myself together to keep climbing. They are a never ending line of fierce beasts that need to be tamed.

Today I choose to step out of the way of the brutes and will them to devour themselves. I am casting a spell to let these tigers turn themselves into butter. Maybe not today, but soon, I plan on having pancakes. Then I will enjoy the view from the top.

Add a Zero

FedEx made some odd choices in how to ship a package this week. The item of origin was (on Friday) from Middletown, PA and the destination is (still) Lewistown, PA. That's 70 miles.

Viewing the tracking progress, it has been perplexing watching the item ship over the weekend. First it went to Lancaster, PA then Newark, NJ! It then was shipped back across the state to Pittsburgh, PA and this morning was just leaving State College, PA to it's final destination. When it finally settles it will have logged 700 miles!

I can make no sense of this wasteful shipping route.

I’m But a Stranger Here

Rest in peace, Aunt Esther. The memories I have of you are warm and fond.

I’m But a Stranger Here

I’m but a stranger here,
Heaven is my home;
Earth is a desert drear,
Heaven is my home;
Danger and sorrow stand
Round me on every hand;
Heaven is my fatherland,
Heaven is my home.

What though the tempest rage,
Heaven is my home;
Short is my pilgrimage,
Heaven is my home;
And time’s wintry blast
Soon shall be over past;
I shall reach home at last,
Heaven is my home.

Therefore I murmur not,
Heaven is my home;
Whatever my earthly lot,
Heaven is my home;
And I shall surely stand
There at my Lord’s right hand.
Heaven is my fatherland,
Heaven is my home.

Group Hug!

The men in this household need to stick together.

I can haz Peanutz?

nomnomnom, kthxbai