I panicked last week when I thought I only had 2 weeks to get ready for my triathlon.  I really have just over a month, but it has been very challenging to get back into running shape.   The swimming and biking are feeling  comfortable.  Running, however, has felt lumbering since my broken toe in June. (fluke accident unrelated to running)  I realized that I had started thinking about it as hard and plodding, letting my form sink into landing with every step.  I needed inspiration for my mini triathlon training (MTT).

Along came my husband with his Bahama Bodies Program (BBP).  That is, we are going on a cruise for his 50th birthday and he wanted to get in better shape.  Working out 3-4 times a week needed to be ramped up to 5-6 times a week AND twice a day.  Some men want their house clean or their meals on time.  My man wants me to be competitively in shape.  He suggests this in the sweetest undemanding way.  I told him I’d see how I held up and try to have a cheerful attitude.  He has a desk job and benefits from a lot of activity in his off time.  I am on my feet most of the day doing household chores, yard work, errands.

In reality, that first week we managed to exercise 5 days, only going two times one day.  Then I required a day of rest before our anniversary bike ride.  The next week he had to be gone for business, so he conceded I only needed to exercise once a day.  He would be on the other side of the world and very limited in his time.  Overall, though, we have been spending more time together and talking about everything, including training regimes.  He is a runner, often preparing for longer races like half-marathons, so just being around him for the BBP/MTT has been helpful.  Also, the “events” are only about 3 weeks apart.  It’s kind of like a double coupon.

I have run 3 times this week, working out my transition from biking to running, learning how to run more lightly, getting my feet used to the water shoes that are being used to mimic barefoot running.  Possibly you are wondering why I don’t wear my Vibrams?  Because the rules of the beginners indoor triathlon are that I put on tied tennis shoes after the swim.  It seemed prudent to choose a shoe to change into for running that was easy to put on.  Shoes are also required on the indoor track.  We had already discovered these particular water shoes when in Hawaii in February.  They were an affordable $12 or so.  Similar ones have also been spotted at Walmart in town for less that Hawaii prices, but are usually only available seasonally. Swimoutlet.com also has some that look right, although I have never ordered them.

There are a couple of key features that make these shoes suitable for barefoot running.  One is that they have thin, flexible soles.  There is no raised heel to interfere with ergonomic motion.  Another is that they fit quite loosely on the feet, but without slipping around.  They give the toes room to spread and respond to impact properly.  (I wouldn’t recommend them for activities that involve a lot of sideways motion.)  They can be worn with or without socks.

Now I am pleased to say that I am back up to 2 miles.  I stopped timing myself for now and just concentrated on form and fun.  Today I biked 9 miles on the stationary bike, then ran.  The exhilaration has returned.

Last Saturday my husband and I rode bikes for 30 miles in about 2 and 1/2 hours on the Wood River Trail in the Sun Valley area of Idaho.  It was an invigorating way to spend our 28th wedding anniversary, as well as keep up training for  the upcoming mini triathlon. It is apparently a 20 mile trail from top to bottom, although we only traversed it from Hailey’s Wood River Inn to Mile Post 0 at Hullen Meadows.  Since it follows the Wood River, there is a slight incline when heading north, making it a more relaxing return trip heading south.  There is well kept asphalt the whole way, fairly wide and clearly marked for curves and tunnels.  Our one concern about the tunnels was that “Keep Right” road signs are posted at the entrances which, according to normal rules of the road, guide travelers smack into the cement wall.  Heavy blue padding at one entrance lead me to believe that someone may have misinterpreted them once…

It was a quick trip without a camera (I was told to pack lightly, and then one bag was left behind accidentally), but I can assure you it was beautiful and peaceful.  Some sections were adjacent to lush golf courses; other parts were along the Wood River.  On the loop through town, in the most northern aspect, we found cars to be very polite and aware of us as we crossed multiple streets.  Even though, for a mild summer Saturday, we were surprised by the minimal use of the trail itself, there were a few other bikers, a small number of pedestrians and runners, a roller-blader, and a couple of people on wheeled cross country skis.

There is a speed limit of 15 mph, which was about my top speed anyway, but my coach, aka husband, said he was impressed with my stamina and overall performance.  I must admit that the bikes we used had comfort gel seats.  I am seriously thinking I need one of those for my own bike.

Truly, some college professors are there to teach and they are doing a good job.  I have studied under many such professors.  My older children have had the benefit of several well-qualified and dedicated faculty.  However, we all labor under the weight of a college system encumbered by foolish, ancient philosophies.  Some professors revel in these erroneous notions with an air of superiority, attempting to intimidate, claiming powers of influence over our children.  I laugh at them.  My children laugh at them.

They think they wield the power of ideas that will humiliate me and snatch my children from me.  They have no concept of the Power of the God we serve, the one true living God.  They have given themselves over to a proud delusion and think they can easily disorient real Christians from the Truth.  Ha!  They deserve no quarter because they have openly defied Him, thinking I, the Christian am on the defensive.  They should be cowering at the feet of their Maker.  I and mine are in His hand, strong and joyful.

From the beginning of time, all like them have been fighting a losing battle.  They and the-father-of-lies strain at worldly dominance, gleefully making motions of throwing off so-called bondage of following God Almighty.  They are like toddlers who have recently discovered they can say, “No!” and imagine just saying it gives them some sort of honor.  In every age, they think their ideas are new and enlightened, not seeing that it is all a rehash of the same old whopper.  They want to be gods.  Unfortunately, they can never account for life and they can never give it any substantial meaning.  They conjecture that by convincing others of the same emptiness, it validates it.  Okay, let’s just all jump over the cliff.   At least we’ll be together.

There may be statistics they have come up with about what happens to a person’s “faith” in college, but they, having no grasp on the Truth, may have failed to understand the results of such research.  Certainly, they have misunderstood the nature of the One True God and what it means to follow Him.  We are not a political group, based on man-made ideologies.  We are not a social club easily disturbed by posturing bullies.  We are not at all an institution invented to propagate self-serving religious ideas.  Our children know this.

We do not tremble or shrink back from discussion of ideas, but there is no reason for us to take seriously the arguments of those whose most foundational tenet is that there is no God as shown in the Bible.  They only seek to comfort their own pride, dressing up their refusal-to-believe-in-actualities in a myriad of guesses about life.  Our children are well-prepared to filter the fabrications from the facts.  We are the real Christians and I’m pretty sure they are not ready for us.

I was dubious.  I imagined zucchini chips as bland and tough.  However, I was ready to make a lot of use of my new dehydrator.  I asked a friend who is more experienced with drying food.  She said they are surprisingly good.  Next, I researched details in my new resources, such as  Preserve It Naturally and Preserving Summer’s Bounty.

The spice mixes I found were too complicated or exotic sounding for my taste and my projected uses for the zucchini pieces.  I remembered what I had recently learned of the culinary attributes of kosher salt and my choice was made.  The next problem was to decide how to cut them up.  With my large kitchen being inundated with garden produce, I needed something faster than hand slicing.  I was worried my 20 year old Kitchen Aide and it’s slicing attachment might mangle the squash too much, but a trial run proved that the right amount of pressure yielded good sturdy slices, even if some of the smaller squash cut sideways.  There were a couple handfuls of bits and pieces which I deemed quite an acceptable loss considering the amazing speed and fun of using my power tool.

The nearly 30 cup metal bowl filled was enough to fill the 9 dehydrator trays, with about 2 cups left over that I would package for the freezer.

I decided to blanch the slices before drying, since longer winter storage is desired.  The younger, denser zucchinis held up to this best, although thickness also played a large part.  After the ice water cooling and draining, I arranged them on the trays and sprinkled lightly with the kosher salt.

They were so wet, it was hard to envision them drying well.  However, just 24 hours later, they looked pretty crispy.  They had shrunken significantly.  They had a subtle buttery zucchini flavor.  The kosher salt was perfect.  I look forward to munching on them for snacks and trying them in soups.

I must say I am very happy with my dehydrator.  There are dried carrots already stashed away, as well as a fine variety of herbs from my garden, including chocolate mint.  There are high hopes for dried apples and raisins.  Weather permitting we will yet have some tomatoes and peppers, too.

We appreciate that the problem didn’t become urgent until our youngest son had arrived at work and exited the car.  Then, we’re thankful that a few minutes later, a co-worker noticed the smoking under the hood of the  vehicle.  And, we are glad our oldest son called the fire department when he did.

He had called us first, so we were on our way with a tow rope, not knowing if it had just overheated or some such thing.  However, in the interim, he made the decision that immediate help was prudent.  We arrived to see the front end of the car covered in flames and the fire crew hosing it down.

When the vehicle was more approachable, but only by those with heavily gloved hands and breathing masks, a large circular saw was put to work on cutting the hood open.  It was a messy procedure, leaving the hood looking like modern art.  The gush of water was now applied more directly and thoroughly to the well melted engine.

The hood sections were pushed back down, we completed the necessary paperwork, and the fireman offered to call a tow truck for us.  During the half hour wait for it, we did some clean-up work.  The folks at Greenhurst Nursery loaned us a couple of brooms, the largest dust pan I have ever seen, and pulled the dumpster over from across the parking lot.

It is not easy to sweep charred car parts off of asphalt.  The edge of the dust pan was useful for prying some the melted goo from the pavement.  Never one to unnecessarily throw anything away, Greg grinned when he found a large bolt in good shape amidst the debris.

Out of curiosity, I asked the fireman how often they put out car fires.  I was amazed by his answer of “about one a week.”  That’s quite a few!  But as he says, there are a lot of cars and they do have explosions going on inside of them whenever they are running.

It is a new reminder of what it means that “our God is a consuming fire.”  Dangerous and cleansing.  That was just one little, localized flame.  He, on the other hand, can’t be contained.  That’s power.

Observation leads me to believe that everyone saves something, those items which are the building blocks for their imagination or dreams.   My husband saves things like old kitchen sinks.  As I am sure there are things which I do that he doesn’t understand, I try to be patient even with where he saves them…  like in the walkway between the outdoor brick oven

(see sink on left margin near bottom of photo)

and my garden beds.  Okay, it was in the lonely sandbox a few feet from there for a while, until he put grass there and installed a much desired clothes line for me.  I have baled mosquito water from it, pulled weeds from the drain hole, and amazingly avoided kicking it during any of my frequent forays into my garden.  It was a bit too heavy for me to move, cast iron that it is; plus, I didn’t know where he wanted it!

However, after two years, a couple of weeks ago I was pleasantly astonished to hear that my dad wanted an old sink for a garden project; I said I would check with Greg.

Greg was all for Dad using the sink, pleased to prove once again that things should be saved for potential yet unknown.  So, my dad’s vision of garden utility was furthered by designing a stand and grate to transform said sink into a vegetable washing station in the backyard.  Since my dad collects a variety of metal for welding projects and wood for, well, wood working, I think it was complete within two days!

Below is the bare sink:

Currently it just drains into a small bucket, but there is some talk of attaching a hose so that it directs water to some nearby shrubs.

A cutting board allows for the removal of plant parts that are just as well dropped off in the adjacent compost area.  The grate lets the dirty water drain off.

The setting is, of course, idyllic since it is my father’s garden.

If you haven’t recently saved a kitchen sink, possibly you could find one at a junk yard; or just buy an inexpensive one.  Such a simple project that adds fun functionality to the whole gardening process.  And my dad says I can have my sink back whenever I want it.

In a world of a huge variety of ready made items on store shelves, it can still be impossible to find the perfect fit for personal needs.  I needed two kitchen towel racks that 1) weren’t hanging on lower cupboards where the dog was always rubbing by it, 2) weren’t the rings that whacks the cupboard every time the towel is removed, and 3) would fit on the narrow upper cupboards just above the counter on either side of the kitchen sink.  The answer to the puzzle was “being sold as” inexpensive designer toilet paper holders at Home Depot.  Not only were they the right size, but having one end open makes it much easier to get the towel up and down.  The finish on them even matches that of the kitchen knobs and handles.  A small block of wood inside the cupboard provided the extra width and support needed for the screws to mount them.  Voila!  Perfect extra-small towel racks!  Here’s to enjoying the small successes in life.

(Chronicles of a Straw Bale Garden begin here.)

As I continue to hold onto hope that there will be some heat this summer to make my squash in the straw bale garden grow, I might as well tell you about some trouble shooting.  First of all, the bale has had a tendency to sprout.  I actually like to weed, and here on my acre have become very familiar with various weeds.  I’m fairly sure that part of what I was dealing with when weeding the straw bale was generated from the bale itself.  Overall, the grass-like growths were not terribly invasive, even though it was often difficult to get them up by the roots.  The bale was several months old when I started my project, but that didn’t seem to slow it down.

Another disappointment has been that several of my painted daisies have died back, apparently a problem at the roots.  I didn’t see any insect suspects or disease symptoms other than withered looking roots.  Of the five  surviving plants, four look robust, but another is ill.  One is blooming nicely, as you can see in the picture above.

I don’t think it was an over-watering issue.  I have found that the bale doesn’t hold water well.  I have trouble adjusting the soaker hose to a slow enough drip.  I keep going to check on it and find the area around it flooded.  I guess I’ll also try watering for shorter periods of time.  I’m used to running my soaker hoses for a certain amount of time for my raised beds, but that is obviously too much for the straw bale gardens.

The weather forecaster has been teasing me with predictions of temperatures into the 90’s next week.  That should make the sweet dumpling squash very happy and maybe I’ll have some more inspiring pictures to post.  Meanwhile, though, there are other parts of the garden doing fine, so I will show you one of those:

Writing about Christian priorities reminds me of a time line.  It should be straightforward for any one given person, but once all the time lines of other people are thrown in it becomes overwhelming and even incomprehensible.  Fortunately, God is up to the task of managing all of these threads; he chooses to set us in a certain time and place to live.   He sets forth some simple guidelines for us limited humans and is somehow patient with us until His appointed “end of the world as we know it.”  Yet, that simplicity is constantly threatened by the imaginations of men.

Do not be concerned that I confuse simple with stress-free.  Life in a fallen world generates stress in various forms.  Some of it is unavoidable.  There is sickness.  People are selfish and regularly fight.  Governments are corrupt.  Persecution happens.  Everyone dies.  However, Christians, since this is the topic of our discussion,  also create unnecessary stress by weighing down others with religious requirements or extra-Biblical guilt.

Much of the disagreement hinges on what is “required” of Christians.  Or, in other words, what will they be doing if they really are Christians.  What will their “works” be?  The culturally acceptable list often contains items such as giving away a large portions of wealth (usually to foreign countries), spending time working for “ministry” organizations,  telling every homeless person you see how to be saved, and generally exhausting time, resources, and energy.  If you haven’t done that, the rather papal verdict is that you aren’t really “committed.”  Making progress with this sort of checklist can easily result in a false sense of righteousness or lack of it, or even a false sense of salvation.

The Biblical version of Christian works is along the lines of I Thessalonians 3:11.  “…and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life and attend to your own business and work with your hands, just as we commanded you, so that you will behave properly toward outsiders and not be in any need.”  The list of things we are to look for when considering whether or not to follow someone as a leader, or mature Christian example, mirrors this same idea.  “He must be one who manages his own household well, keeping his children under control with all dignity…(etc)”  (I Timothy 3:4)  “Having children who believe…”  (Titus 1:6)  “But if anyone does not provide for his own, and especially those of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.”  (1 Timothy 4:8)  “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.”  (Ephesians 6:4)  These things take time and the home is the center, as well as the point of evaluation.  If a Christian isn’t mature there, he isn’t fit for taking part in other people’s lives.  If other attempts to help people interfere with the primary concerns at home, God wants us to attend to those first.

Other important items on the real list of Christian qualities are things that can’t be faked.  We are supposed to be patient, kind, and forgiving, for example, in our everyday relationships and contacts.  The Bible says a lot about developing heart grown attributes like these which will be shown in our actions as we go about our mundane responsibilities.

So how do we reconcile this obvious emphasis with other places that say things about leaving families, giving to the poor, and taking up our cross?  Quite simply.  If our family makes us choose between faith in Christ and them, we choose Christ.  There is nothing said about “sacrificing our families” as some way to honor God.  If we come across people in need, especially other Christians, we wisely lend them assistance in an appropriate form.  This often necessitates knowing them and being around them.  We keep our eyes open, but we can be completely at rest in knowing that God directs our steps and knows everyone’s needs.  We die to self in terms of self-will, yet live in joy in the life that God has blessed us with.  All of this is low profile, giving all glory to God, and hopefully no one even knows “who that Christian was.”

A certain passage in Matthew 25:31-46 has been used a lot.  The spin is that if we aren’t taking care of all of the poor, searching for them across all boundaries of the earth, and under every park bench, then we are falling short.  However, if we look carefully at the King’s answer, we see He says “to the extent that you did it to ONE (emphasis mine) of these brothers of Mine…”  He knows our limits; and He is specifically referring to other believers.  Obviously, I’m not saying we only help Christians or that once we’ve helped one person we can check that off.  But we should know what the teaching is referring to and what it is suggesting.  If that one lost lamb was so important to Jesus in the parable, then we can not only take comfort in how much we each mean to him, but we can rejoice in one person helped.

I would like to offer two examples of faith and works.  First, Abraham.  He was counted as righteous because he believed the promise of God.  This faith was given feet as he took his son up to offer him as a sacrifice, knowing that God would just have to raise Isaac again to fulfill the promise.  This example of works is interesting because it doesn’t have anything to do with helping anyone.  It was kind of scary, but take comfort in the fact that he had very specific directions.

Job had faith, so much that God wanted to show him off to bring glory to His name.  Job comes through, has the benefit of a very insightful conversation with God,  and is blessed with twice as much in earthly goods as before.  He continued to live a faithful, prosperous life, beginning with offering sacrifices for his friends who had misrepresented God’s character and intent.  We need to be careful about that, too.

The bottom line is that Christians have reason for and access to great peace.  If a certain perspective, a choice, or attitude of ours results in stress or turmoil, it is highly suspect.  If you see the need, but are not omnipotent, fall on your knees and talk to the One who is, but without trying to take His job.

How to manage clothespins while trying to hang clothes on the line to dry has been difficult  -  until this week.  The clothespin apron that I just made has finally resolved multiple issues that had made the otherwise enjoyable sunny task challenging.  First of all, the clothes pins are now with me wherever I am in relation to the clothesline.  Also, no more bending over or reaching up, depending on the container.  No more trying to hold a bundle of the pins in my hand as I walk around or twirl the clothes line.  Hence, less effort looking for the clothespins that have sprung out of my grip onto the lawn.  I can see straight down into the expansive pocket to choose the correct type of clothespin for the job, one or two at a time.  If I’m hanging a particularly long or heavy item, I can reach into my pouch and get more as needed.  I’m all for exercise, but there are times when conserving your strength and efficiency are better.

I used Simplicity pattern 4282, view F, with some modifications.  A heavy cotton decorator fabric was my fabric of choice, which I found for a good price at Home Fabrics in Boise. I decided to finish the edges with single fold bias tape, instead of the more complicated application of lace trim.  I also used that method to hem the pockets.  I put extra pockets, from other views, on the outside of the big pocket, since I have never had too many pockets on anything.  Probably the most important change was leaving the main pouch pocket all open except for securely stitching it in two places near the upper edge so that it wouldn’t just fall open when filled with clothespins.  This is very important for another reason.  I had experimented with another apron and found that pockets that went straight down, no matter how large, created a torque on my wrist which was highly uncomfortable.

It is difficult to see the reinforcement stitching in the second picture, but it is about 1 1/2 inches of layered zigzag stitching.  If I ever make another, the one thing I might do differently is make the outer edges of the pouch a bit diagonal, reinforcing where the line becomes horizontal.  That would also mean adjusting where I put the extra pockets.

This genre of apron should actually stay clean, thus avoiding wear and tear in the washing machine.  Therefore, it should last a long time.  And hanging out clothes just got more fashionable, too.