BIKING BUDDIES

Iris has been asking for quite some time to take 'my' bike ride with me.  My route is just a little under 20 miles with part of that being on a busy highway before getting to the Kickapoo Valley Reserve.  The route on the Reserve is 14 miles, and as Iris had not ridden that far at one time before, her dad dropped her and her bike off at the gate where I met them.

 

 

 

 

We are set to begin...

 

 

 

...off she goes, and she was quite the rider.  There are several hills on this route, some more major than others, and she was set to walk her bike up hills if necessary.  As we approached one looooong hill she said, I'll have to walk this one.  But then as she was biking up not far from me she said, no, I'm going to do it. 

 

And she did!!

 

And she did every single one of the hills except the one that goes up from the covered bridge at the point where I turn around.  She waited on the bridge and drank some more water while I went up the hill to the last gate and turned around and came back.

 

 

 

 

A stop at a flowing well to refill the water bottle.  I never drink much while riding, but this young lady drank tons.

 

 

 

Just approaching the last 'leg' of the ride, crossing over Co. P onto the Old Road as it winds towards Rockton.

 

This girl did nearly 15 miles today!!!!

 

I am so proud of her, never a complaint, never I'm tired, just a need to stop for a drink, although one time she insisted I pass her the bottle while we were riding.

 

She did say she was 'starved' and that she sure would sleep well tonight.

 

Fun for me to ride with my nine year old granddaughter.

 



HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, DAD





Bartholomew

Were my father still alive
he would be eighty-nine today.
I wonder what
in the long thirty-one years
since he passed,
would have been...
for him...
for us.

I know he'd still be the
Kitchen God of my youth
who could coax exquisite
tastes-smells,
and sheer amount
from the merest ingredients.

White chef's apron tied high
on his portly frame,
his huge brown eyes missing
not a thing
as he surveyed his Kingdom.

A tall, tall man of short stature
who loved long, sleek Lincolns
though once he brought home
a lowly Nash.

A self-trained musician
bending his alto sax
to high jazz
as we kids eagerly sat
on the scratchy, green parlor sofa...
a rapt audience,
sure he was a star...

and he could belt out a song
in his huge baritone
rich with chestnut notes
that at other times
might send us scurrying.


He was a suitcase kind of Dad-
an on-the-road salesman
hawking kettles--
not just any kettles, either
but STAINLESS STEEL
none of that aluminum for food
he'd eat or serve!


He'd be off for a week at a time
sometimes two
demonstrating his wares
in other people's kitchens...
roast beef, braised with very little water
(that was an important component)
to tender perfection in his largest kettle,

in the smallest one, ruby red beets
that he would later demonstrate
left no stain...
potatoes steamed on low heat
little water
certainly not boiled to death.

Sometimes, to my delight,
we might accompany him,
the clean-up-crew of kids.
He had a tiny office front
in Rochester, NY
where we might stay over night
if the 'dinner party' went late-
and in the morning he'd fix us
salami sandwiches,
not just any salami, mind you,
but hard salami sliced so thin
you could see right through it,
on Italian hard rolls
so crusty that flakes broke off
with every bite.
I loved this breakfast
in that tiny space,
relishing the almost naughtiness of it.

Sometimes
cooking in my kitchen,
Iris, earnest and supremely focused,
stirring by my side,
I know he has come through
(he may never have held her nor
felt the aching sweetness of her arms
around his neck)
but he is there in her,
as he has been in me...
cooking on.

 

 Novemberr 24, 2010

Joanne Adragna Shird

IRIS' RECITAL

This nine year old young lady played her solo during the violin recital last Sunday.  She nailed it!!



I love this look of utter concentration that takes over her face while playing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a child who loves music and I have heard her say that music changes everything.  I love how deeply she feels music.  And I agree, music does change everything.

 

I am so proud of her.