This past week.... So much to say

From the opening on Thursday after that last post to racing Gloucester this weekend. only going to cover part of it but all of it and say too much more and well you know, be gewilli and i won't even bother to proof read it for a while - maybe I will, or maybe I wont - this is off the cuff unedited shit here, be warned:

20+ years in the making.

The first time I used an Electron Microscope it kind of clicked.  Much like that first Cyclocross race I did. The EM's gave me access to the Botany darkroom, my own darkroom, not the crowded shared art department one. Not only my own space to explore and work with exposures, composition, contrast, focus but, it gave me a this most amazing of gifts; a glimpse into this hidden world.

Tomorrow it comes together. Not just a couple prints here, or there, or an amazing collection hidden back in an auditorium, this is a collection of prints that brings everything together. All of me. This is me on display: Bicycle, black and white, craft, science, art, microscopes, electrons....

I can point to when this started. Plymouth day 2. With someone's creaky bottom bracket. Science connection, ride to have coffee. Hey I'm riding past the most amazing frame builders in the world with this unique social media prescence and insane level of craft. The story that lead to all these prints are really intertwined and inseperable.

It is impossible to write a full description for each image w/o telling a lengthy story. 

From the start there with a beer after a CX race to walking into the new Firefly space with my buddy Dean... it is all linked together I guess. Everything is. The thread isn't hard to follow. Tyler, Jamie, Kevin. Thank you guys for creating such an inspirational space and for making such inspriational bikes, and being patient with my requests for tiny bits of scrap.  

My mother told me this is all me, this is finally the culmination of everything. This is me. She's probably correct, mother's usually are. And yes, it is my vision, these are reflections of me, my images, my viewpoint of the nanoworld...  my Nanoscapes, but...  I guess what makes them all special is not a single one of these is my sample. Not one. Even the coffee bean was given to me by the barista at Blue State Coffee in the Brown University Book Store. 

These are gifts to me, without the generosity, kindness, patience, humor and most importantly tolerance of others, this process would be impossible, and I am deeply grateful to be able to share what I see in these gifts.

So thank you to everyone who's been supportive, encouraging, and giving. For without the kindness of so many this wouldn't be happening. 

It is small, but it is fitting. I look into a world of the smallest of everything. 

If you make it tomorrow, be prepared for a hug. It is the best way to say thank you. And if you aren't in town (Boston) tomorrow stop by sometime and check them out. 

First race of the year... done and out of the way

Quad Cross was yesterday. Quick and short of it: I'm a lot slower than I was hoping I would be.

fast forward to today (two weeks later) and I still have that one sentence hanging there.

Not quite getting to the write up... am I?

No, why not?

Well, because I think maybe I needed some time and distance between racing and writing.

Counter point, and a tangent

http://www.npr.org/2014/09/05/346117507/the-considered-bite-low-carb-diets-and-our-relationship-to-food

the critic is misguided in many ways...

step back to MKF Fisher's world, Food was still food. Carbs didn't matter because very little of the food was processed, you had to make it, and fats weren't shunned but embraced, butter was critical, fat rendered from cooking was cherished and saved and used. they didn't look for lean protiens or only this part of the cow, they ate the whole damn cow, sheep or whatever, for the most part. Sure there were plenty who prized and valued a certain part, but hey. Real. Fruit was far more seasonal, or it was preserved. When you preserved your own, you had a finite amount. You didn't have a pile of fruit everyday all year. It was a treat. Sure you ate it every day it was in the trees, at the farm stand.

Then? You had to make it.

All of it.

yourself.

or someone else did.

Comparing that author enjoying food to modern americans enjoying what they consider food? not even close.

But yeah - no content zero here, ramble and critique someone's work. I wonder what it is like to write and create content. Someday maybe i'll try it sometime.

Here's someone who made some content that makes a ton of sense on this issue, emphasises the bottom line: try it yourself.

http://blogs.bicycling.com/blogs/fitchick/bacon-eggs-cyclocross

the other big key being missed with the realization that everyone's been blaming the butter for what the bread did...

it isn't to eliminate carbs completely, even Noakes doesn't say that. Just limit it, reduce it. not make it the biggest source of calories.

There's lots of science out there: http://annals.org/article.aspx?articleid=1900694 for one...

You can make it simple. make it about insulin and how you treat your pancrease.
http://s3.amazonaws.com/massivehealth/A-Tale-of-Two-Meals-v3.png

Meant to just be a simple post, one that I wanted to end on a positive not that due to the rediculous comparison I now want to read MKF Fisher's book.

But things get derailed, other conversations tank moods and tones change. One of these days I'll get the Quad debacle written up. Legs are STILL trashed from it. But at least I'm not trying to dig out of a Vegas hole this year.  Hmm now that I think of it, i'm actually still trying to climb out of a much much much deeper hole I dug. Bottom line? Have to remake this season. Need some introspection time...  revamp (erase all) expectations.  Riverpoint CX and Quad have been good.

They've reminded me of the joy I have just racing. Even not fit. Even super slow. It is pretty special.

Food's far more important than racing. Creating food and wonderful meals and teaching good eating habits is really my primary focus...  cyclocross keeps me centered, and bikes and art are my life. Always have been, with luck always will be.

g

Thank you Lucy.... thank you

Seven years (and a few days) ago she came to live with us.

more than half of her storied life happened in this house, on the bike path, in the back yard.

A counter surfing, compost eating, school bag destroying, 75# lap dog, and my youngest's snuggle buddy, my wife's running partner, my friend.

Nothing really more awful or emotional right now.

She came to us from a friend all grown up... the last few days have been not easy, but this summer she had more time with the girls than any other time, she was intensely loved all the way to the end.

I didn't sleep much at all last night and when i did it was dreams of lucy, or dogs...  the smell lingers.

I laid her in the back of the wagon to drive over to the animal hospital, on four soft layers of packing blankets for the tearful less than 1 mile drive. Pulled in and parked in the shade, opened the passenger door and gave her some love and they came out, expecting our arrival. brought a blanket out for me to wrap her still up in. I've carried her up the stairs most every night, and down in the morning, and sometimes right outside. Lots of carrying of the big Lucy dog. For a dog who you essentially couldn't pick up a year ago (she wouldn't let you and would fight and shake and claw to get free) the only way to get around is with me carrying her.

Dogs are different. The connections we make are special, the bonds unique. She was my constant cooking companion, my shawdow as soon as I got home. Always wanted to be in the same room with me or Erin.

I don't really have to explain it most people get it.

I've never had to make this decision before. Never had to decide when it was time. Analytically, it was time, I can pull back the emotions and know she was suffering, her mental capacity was diminishing fast and her physical capacity was nearly gone.

She lost most of her hearing a while ago. For a dog who barked defensively anytime a stranger (or the postman) got w/in 20' of the house (outside even with all the windows closed) to be surprised when I opened the door from the bike room and woke her up 3' away. She didn't like being surprised, she gave her guilty sheepish smirck like "oops i was supposed to know you where here first."

So many stories I guess. How do you capture them all. You can't. I can't. Well not true, I could maybe capture quite a few of them. Like the Friday before NBX when LVG drove up to stay with us. Both of us perked up when we hear the familiar rattle of a B4V TDI turn onto the street. We knew that sound.

This winter in Virginia she was left in our bedroom there. She opened the door and let her self out (and pooped in the basement on the rug). RUGS.  Man did she ever prefer to pee on Rugs. I think it was the lack of spashing maybe. She was very particular.

Looking back, she's been in old age decline for a year or so, maybe more. Slow, nothing acute, just getting old. Thirteen and a half is pretty old for a big dog. Sure there are plenty who live longer, but maybe more that don't.

A full life did Lucy have. A life full of love and affection.

She was a perfect fit here.

The void here now is huge, indescribable.

I completely doubled over in tears when opened the door and caught myself looking for her in her spot when i got back to the house this morning... how many days or weeks will that habbit take to fade.


At the Vet I carried her in from the car wrapped in the old soft blanket brought out for her. Lucy hated the vet. Had to be dragged in there, literally usually. She's too big to lay on the table in the room, so an extra blanket was placed on the floor and I gentely set her down. She was relaxed. Maybe she knew. They know don't they. All the snuggles, her face was damp from my tears by the time I left. The sedative was almost enough... It was her time, I don't want to go through the painful last week/few days. mostly last couple days. Her body had more or less shut down.

The process was gradual i guess, sitting here reflecting and sharing the full impact on how much she'd changed is sinking in.

But there was always that warm Lucy love, that spirit, it was there. But this morning especially, and some last night, a new painful stress was there.

It was time. I said good bye.

I rubbed her soft ears, forehead to forehead, crouched on the floor and cried. She passed quickly... she shuffled easily and painlessly off this mortal coil. I left the room. A side exam room, where the old entrance used to be. The door Lucy had gone in and out of the last time she was there. Today with the vet's remodel this was a small exam room, maybe for this purpose, but there was an outside door. I was given as much time as I needed with her after she drew her last breath and was told to just slip out the door when I was ready.

I did. and sat in the car, and cried again.

When I could see clearly enough I started the car and the radio came on, a song that Lindsey called her favorite song as we were driving to the Farm on Monday... as soon as i started the car the lyrics were at this part of the song:
"My summer, summer, my sweet summer is gone. My Sweet Summer is gone. Yeah she left in the morning..." 

Lindsey and Lucy, inseperable, and that song comes on, at that spot, as I'm leaving the vet this morning.

Seven Years ago pretty much to the day this photo was captured of the two of them:

Seven amazing years...

We said good bye to her today... a for real good bye.

But the love she's left with us will never go away

heddwch
G

Dogs

I've always had a very special connection with my dogs. I knew what they wanted, needed and in a way were saying most of the time. Merlin was the first. I watched him being born. 1st born out of the litter. Biggest of the batch, huge paws. A majestic and smart calm affectionate dog. I grew up going on adventures with him. The middle, the beginning? Less of the focus now than the end. I was still in High School. I'd adopted in a way my grand mother's dog Platty (merlin was a big golden retriever, platty an english cocker spaniel). Merlin taught Platty everything about the land there. How to dig for moles (she was great at digging, not as good at catching as Merlin), and mostly the bond between me and Merlin was similar with Platty even together. There wasn't much overlap. But there was some.

Merlin started getting sick. I drove him to and from the vet, then finally last chance up to a specialist way north and east of Seattle. He was there a day and passed. I drove back to bring him home.

Never really got to have time to say good bye, all the focus was on trying to keep him around.

Platty and I were inseperable after Merlin died.

But I went to college, away from home. Everytime I came home though it was an emotional reunion.

I got married, and then got a call, she wasn't doing well. Got a cheap flight the next day or so and flew home. Got in late and went straight home. First thing in the morning the vet called, I was getting ready to go see her, my mother didn't tell me the vet called to say she died overnight. So instead of driving to say my good byes I drove to collect her...

Right now I'm looking over at my Lucy, a dog that came to live with us when friends who were moving to England didn't want to subject to the cruel quarantine laws at the time. She has her quircks, but she was tolerant of an excessively affectionate todler, and was supremely amazing. A counter surfer, compost destroyer, opportunistic forager, destroyer of many a school bags that only had a wrapper in them.

Now I'm faced with her age. 13.5 years old roughly. 75-85 pound dog. Rarely do the larger ones make it that long. It has been a bit of a steady decline over the last few months.

Last few days, I can't really get her to eat. And today she doesn't want to drink, but she's having some water now. Good sign, except then she just threw up a bit of grass and yuck into her water dish...

But she's not in stress, she's herself, just not moving mcuh. The eyes. They are expressive.

I don't want to say good bye but I do want to say good bye. I don't want to 'put her to sleep' but i fear soon i may not have a choice...

heavy heart

dark cloud

bonds some people will never understand, and others know all too well...

Annual Aug 30 ride report

Yes, I had lots of options to ride that saturday. Go up to the Dirty 40, they kind of messed that up for me by inviting a few dopers, sure I shouldn't care who they invite, the ride should stand alone. But sort of a principled thing I guess, dumb maybe, but also logistically nuts and not what I wanted to do with my weekend ultimately.  Another option was the Dude Smash. This hurt a bit more to miss but going there would mean not seeing my kid play on her new team in her first games. It was a tournament weekend but I was working on Sunday. Soooooo watch games on Saturday or not watch. Also Saturday was my birthday. I like spending that day on my bike. If there has been one thing that has defined me always it is the bike. It is me. I'm at home on it.

The soccer tournament gave me the opportunity to and motive and destination. When I heard that was where they are going to be playing, it kind of made sense. Ride there. But with a 9:05 start time? Oof I'd have to leave early.