Romney-Edwards 2008

Birthday Challenge 2012

2011-11-29T19:40:00.000-07:00

Edwards just completed his 2011 Challenge and it inspired me to get thinking about my own. I think the focus of a birthday challenge doesn't have to be physical, but should be something you know you need to work on. As I have obviously let my writing skills wane, I decided to do a writing challenge. Of course, Edwards thought I should do something physical too. Here's the whole of it.

1. 350 words or more every day for 35 days. I can write on any subject, in any genre, but they should be creative and they must be 350 words or more (no coping out with a daily haiku). I might create a separate blog for this and I promise to post anything appropriate, but I don't promise that everything I write will be "appropriate."

2. Pull-ups. I know I did them for Edwards' 50th birthday, but I've been lazy and it is a skill I like to have in top-notch form. 35 "pull-ups" a day for 35 days. Starting on January 11, 2012. The reason "pull-ups" is in quotes is because I'm going to have to do ALL kinds of pull-ups to keep from getting injured: assisted, jumping, kipping, traditional, different grips... the works... anything is on as long as it trains the movement. I must come out of the 35 days uninjured, but much improved, because the REAL challenge is 350 pull-ups in 3.5 hours - one day to spread it out and get it done. I REALLY don't know if I can do this. All of these have to be kipping pull-ups. OUCH!

3. Rollerskating. I need to get better at rollerskating and I need to hang-out with my friends. Saturday night is adult "Flashback" at Classic Skating in Sandy. The session is only two hours, but I'm thinking I'll get there while the kiddies are still allowed and capture 3.5 hours of skating before midnight. I'll rent a party room, bring vegan goodness, invite my friends, get dressed up all "Flashback" style and ROLL into my 35 year with as much youth and joy as possible. I'll probably get a few blisters too. 3.5 hours... YIKES!

I'm excited!

Birthday Challenge Year 34. COMPLETE!

2011-03-23T10:04:00.000-06:00

WOW! After my husband's 50th - I realize that the difference between 34 and 50 is not so much... both are pretty big numbers. No wonder we never notice the age difference; it barely exists.

The Raw Food Challenge was excellent because it took tremendous focus and was a good distraction from life. I also learned new things about flavors and cooking and enzymes. My skin has never been cleaner, nor have I ever looked so lean. It was also a favorable way to transition to veganism. Mostly, it was excellent because 34 days becomes a way of life instead of a short-time torture. It is clear that I can still decide to do something and get it done.

Now, the raw diet itself. It is amazing what you get used to… and what you don’t.

I got used to cold food, cold soups, heat in dishes coming from hot peppers, weird textures, unsweet "cookies", the smell of dehydrating kale with nutritional yeast seasoning, being low on salt, green smoothies, and chopping and preparing food regularly. I really did.

I did not get used to eating at home all the time, having to explain the raw diet, being in the kitchen for 2-3 hours a day, and MOST PAINFULLY… I did not get used to living without my morning tea ritual. I really didn’t.

Also, 34 days of a weird diet is easier than 36, and those two make-up days SUCKED!

But, I did it. 34 Days of RAW FOOD ONLY for my 34th Birthday. (accomplished in 36 days).

Even though I protest… I’m sticking with green smoothies, ground nut butter with fresh berries mashed in (eaten with salted green apples), and dining out at Omar’s. I’ll probably even make some raw dishes during the heat of summer. YUM!

How will I celebrate the end of my challenge? With friends and yummy vegan cupcakes for lunch!

Vegan - Sometimes - Vegetarian - Always

2011-03-21T15:49:00.000-06:00

When it comes to eating meat, Edwards and I have been “localvores” for a year and before that we had cut out fish due to mercury and over-fishing. Because of the articles and books we read, and documentary films we watch, already our diets are relatively healthy, informed, and restricted. Then, one day, Edwards handed me a copy of the PETA magazine and I had a further change of heart.

The magazine didn’t tell me anything I wasn’t already vaguely aware of, but it heightened my awareness and gave me a solution to the largest problem to ever arise in my life: What to do about the death of Miss Manners? You will need to refer to my previous post about her death to understand the gravity of the situation, and the gravity of not having a clear legal solution to the problem – actually – any solution to the problem.

PETA offered a solution. Become a VEGAN. Something grotesquely violent happened to a member of my family and the only way to end violence is to stop perpetuating it. For this, I can start with the obvious. I can remove myself from behaviors that lead to violence against animals, or remove myself from the industrial meat and dairy industries.

Just like my ignorant neighbor, who seems to have not understood that it would be WRONG to beat a dog the way he did, there are innocent people who can no longer tell that their jobs are violent. This is not only terrible for the farm animals, it is terrible for the people who work in these environments. We should be able to live and eat in a world where the difference between right and wrong is obvious.

My decision to be vegan doesn’t end this, but it distances me from it. Free from food violence, I will also be able to focus on ending the violence I commit against people through judgments, critiques, and rude comments.

For my new lifestyle, I am constructing my personal vegan’ness around an end to violence, not an end to the use of animal products. If I hear of a local farmer with happy, free-range, hormone -free chickens who love the farmer and lay eggs for the farmer… I will buy and consume those eggs. Also, I do not believe the local honey industry to be violent, and local bees, help support local agriculture, so I will continue to enjoy my local raw honey. Finally, I can visit the farm where the dairy cows are raised and milked for the Raw Milk that is sold locally at Real Foods Market. This will remain a treat. I don’t mind the dairy industry when it is clearly nonviolent. The things I will be inflexible on… animal death. I don’t need to eat meat. I don’t need to eat an animal once alive, now dead no matter how it was killed.

I guess this makes me an always vegetarian sometimes a vegan. Meaning, when I have all the information I need to make a decision on the violence of an animals’ life, I will just be vegetarian, but when I am unsure of the violence surrounding how an animal was raised and use, I will be vegan.

I hope this makes me a better person and I hope this helps heal my heart of things that Manners' death brought to the surface. I miss, Miss Manners and I hurt for all the violence that the human race and animal kingdom have to experience every day.

* The above trailer is for a positive movie on the food industry. One that I enjoyed very much and was extremely informative. I looked for some shock-and-awe videos, but I couldn't watch them and didn't want to subject my friends to them.

NRG Soup

2011-03-20T18:41:00.000-06:00

The first time I made NRG Soup it was not bad. Good enough to make again.

Tonight... not so much. My poor husband. He is so patient with my cooking and is now comfortably situated on the couched eating raw mixed nuts, after my raw mixed bag of semi-fresh vegetables and fruit soup.

NRG Soup

"Water" - cucumbers and lemon (I should have just used WATER like I did the first time)
Tomatoes
Onion
Habanero
Ginger
Garlic
Nama Shoyu (I should have just used salt)
Mint
Red Bell Pepper
Apple
Orange Juice

All really delicious ingredients, incredibly raw, and it does give you tons of energy. That is, if you can get it down.

I don't know what went wrong tonight, but it was just disgusting. I had a Lara Bar and - as I said - Edwards had some nuts.

I am afraid of the kitchen.

Only TWO MORE DAYS of RAW HOME COOKING.

Raw Pain of Insomnia

2011-03-18T23:37:00.000-06:00

"Do you feel amazing on your raw diet?"

This is a question I get from raw foodies and raw foodie wannabes with incredible frequency.

Do I feel AMAZING? Um, no... I feel ALERT.

Having lived on and off in a terrible fog of muddling comprehension since I was hit by a car at 17, alertness is no small thing. It is, in fact, amazing. I feel strongly that clarity of mind is not something people should take for granted. Having spent half of my life working myself to exhaustion just trying to drowned out the sounds of a fluorescent lights so I can hear the conversation around me, alertness is like gold. However, after 30 + days, all of this ALERTNESS is starting to severely impact my beauty rest.

SLEEP has been my one and only survival skill for post-head injury life and I have always considered it a special gift that I can sleep anywhere, anytime, anyhow. Now, at the end of a long day, I go to get my eight hours of blissful, near death sleep and I am locked out by absolute alertness and a clear mind.

This might be fantastic. I really might only need five hours of sleep with such a clean diet, but the truth is... I miss it. I miss being asleep. I miss going to bed at the same time as my husband, and I miss enjoying only a few passing moments before I am dead to the world.

Maybe, if I keep my diet 50-60% raw, but introduce back in some nice hot "dead" food, I will keep my alert mind when I need it and be able to pass out when I'm ready.

Well, 2 o'clock a.m. seems to be my "reasonable" bedtime lately, so I only have another 2.5 hours to kill... maybe I can count on the Jane Eyre TV mini-series to knock me out again... that only took until 2:30 last night.

Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday... WEDNESDAY = Food to help me sleep.

Silly Delicious Cooking Class

2011-03-16T22:53:00.002-06:00

One thing I decided would be good to do during my raw challenge is attend a raw cooking class. This is a pretty big deal for me having never attended a cooking class in my life and even somehow "missing out on" Home Economics in high school. Sure it is the last week of my challenge, but still worth it and I might learn something.

I didn't know what to expect, so much so that I didn't even think of the basics... a raw cooking class = Hippies. THE WEIRDEST OF ALL HIPPIES. 15 minutes into the class I leaned over and said to Joanna (It's a girl thing. I had to bring a friend), "The hardest part of my challenge is going to be sitting through this class." She said, "No, shit" or rather she would have said, "No, shit" if she hadn't given up swearing for Lent, so she probably really said, "I know, right?"

The students were "sincere" and the teacher was an adorable disaster. Had she only been a disaster, we would have left, but watching her stumble and bumble was cute and endearing so we stayed. I didn't learn much new (certainly not how to hold a knife or chop vegetables competently) but we did walk away with two delicious raw recipes. One of which we tried out at an impromptu dinner party tonight.

Pasta with Mushroom "Cheese" Sauce

Part 1: Pasta
Zucchinis, Radishes, and Carrots all Julienned. Set on paper towels to dry

Part 2: Basic Cashew Cheese
Cashews and water blended until very smooth

Part 3: Mushroom Cheese Sauce
Mushrooms
Olive Oil
Nama Shoyu
Cashew Cheese
Lemon
Nutritional Yeast
Garlic
Salt

Then you toss all this together and you have a miracle of delicious "Mushroom Alfredo Sauce" with "Pasta". True, this dish would be better in the middle of summer, but after 30 days of raw anything at home that is this flavorful is the best of treats.

Also, since Joanna is a brilliant dessert maker, we embarked on our first raw dessert. Chocolate Mousse with Strawberries and Cashew Cream.

Part I: Chocolate Mousse
Cacao Powder (we ground up Raw Cacao nibs in Edwards' coffee grinder, shhhhh...)
Bananas
Avocado
Coconut Water
Agave

Part II: Strawberries
Enough said

Part III: Cashew Cream
We took the left over Cashew Cheese and added Agave. YUM!

This was another miracle. A three layer dessert miracle. It looked almost exactly like this picture and tasted as good as you imagine.

Edwards said when I embarked on my raw challenge that some girls don't loose weight when they go raw because they eat too many nuts. Well, um, GUILTY! I consumed about 3 lbs of creamed cashews tonight and loved every second of it. Plus, I got to entertain friends over an amazing dinner, which is always the most gratifying part of life.

KIDS: TRY THIS AT HOME!

Oh and... I made the dessert again the next day in honor of Edwards'return home... the picture doesn't do it justice and you can't see the chocolate, but YUM!

A Rose by Any Other Name

2011-03-15T20:50:00.000-06:00

Ah, to be 29 again! If I were, I would be complete of my raw food challenge. Fortunately, I have only seven more full days.

It occurred to me this evening that I should have been documenting the recipes I've tried and the "adventures" I've had. Unfortunately, it has been difficult to feel inspired to write about my challenge as I'm not sure how interesting it is. However, last night and tonight I dined on something "interesting" and worth writing about.

Mashed Potatoes and Gravy

Part I: Mashed Potatoes
Cauliflower
Cashews
Lemon Juice
Thyme
Salt
BLENDED TO SMOOTH

Part II: Gravy
Miso
Red Wine
Onion
Shallot
Orange Juice
Olive Oil
Maple Syrup
Jalapeno
Nama Shoyu
Ginger
Apple Cider Vinegar
Sesame Seed Oil
Blended to Brown Sauce

What was going through my brain when I decided THIS is what I wanted for dinner? I can't really say, but if you'd been RAW for 28 days you just might also have an incredible, insatiable desire for ANYTHING named Mashed Potatoes and Gravy.

The biggest problem with this recipe (yes, besides maple syrup, nama shoyu, and jalapeno together) is the name. I think I'll stop gagging on it if I can figure out a new name for it. In theory, the flavors are not bad (and it is INCREDIBLE to have SO MUCH FLAVOR IN A RAW DISH) but if your brain is thinking "Mashed Potatoes and Gravy" it will never, ever never reconcile to the light'ish green/white moosh with brown liquid on top that you have in a bowl before you.

So - if anyone outside of myself ever read my blog - I would issue a NAME THAT DISH challenge. Then I would write the hippie author of this cookbook and demand that it be changed. Because let me tell you... a rose by any other name - rather, in any other shape - does NOT smell as sweet.

The Good News

2011-02-26T10:08:00.000-07:00

This raw diet isn't so bad. In fact, I think it is causing me to feel "normal" again. People ask if I feel any different, but I always say, "not really". However, I give that answer automatically compared to the me I was before Beata died. I really don't feel much different from the girl with her whole family. The truth is though, I can't compare to that girl because she has been missing for months.

I actually feel quite different from the me I was when I started the challenge 12 days ago. 12 days ago I was a disaster, missing and hurting for my family every minute of every day. Today, I am more at ease. It may have started with the distraction of learning something new (and all the dang food prep required for this diet), but now it might be healthy belly = healthy heart. I still miss Beata, Tuco, and Miss Manners, but it is beginning to be a warmer, softer, more loving feeling than the constant, crushing pain I had two weeks ago.

This is no small change. This is huge. I feel HUGELY different.

I think I've got to go one more step though. I've got to cut out wine and champagne. Not because I don't believe they are RAW, but because I get too drunk, too fast on this diet. I simply can't spend another night passed out in The John. That's right. I'm 34 years old and I just admitted to something shamefully undergraduate. Oh well, thanks to good company and wonderful friends it was totally worth it!

The challenge is hard. I miss hot food. I miss tea. I miss Indian food and Mexican food. I miss Cake Lunch. I miss going to restaurants. I miss interest in my food. I miss lots of wonderful things, but I am loving the cleanse. I have a lot of bad things to get rid of. Let's see how I do in the next 23 days!

Raw Challenge to Vegan Life

2011-02-18T18:22:00.000-07:00

I had planned a really hard cross-country/skate ski challenge for my 34th year, but life lost a little forward momentum due to recent events and so did my training program. BUT... I needed a challenge. Maybe something more cerebral and beneficial for my life? Yes! I've got it!

34 Day Raw Food Diet.

The rules:
1. Duh, only raw food.
2. Raw "sweets" no more than twice a week
3. No caffeine. Bonus points for this one.

Starting on my birthday (NO CAKE?) February 15, 2011 and ending March 22, 2011.
I've added one day due to prior dinner arrangements with a friend moving to France.

I'm four days in and, well, I am dehydrated! Explain that? Everything I eat has tons of water, plus I drink a jug and half of water each day, but I'm walking around with pruned fingers and parched lips. Too weird. Other than that... It's not so bad. I just do not let myself get hungry. I eat ALL DAY! (hip, hip, hurray!) Sure, it is strawberries, dried mangoes, peanut butter, celery, snap peas, carrots, trail mix, and weird vitamix concoctions, but the intake is constant so I haven't gone bonkers with cravings yet.

In amazing solidarity, Edwards is participating partially in my challenge. He is on a whole foods diet for 34 days. Whole vs Raw allows him to use that amazing little invention called, FIRE. He can cook his foods. I never thought I'd be so jealous watching someone eat quinoa! How does he feel right now? Tired, cause he can't sleep. Diet transitions can be weird.

Of course, this means I missed Cake Lunch all week and now my dear friend is getting married and moving to VERNAL, UT! OK, nope, but she was made this offer and I wasn't even around to confer with! Fortunately, my friends are smart and will live without me while I'm in raw food isolation.

I'll try and keep the blog updated with how I feel. I certainly don't feel any better yet, but maybe I will. I'll also explain why, at the end of the 34 days, I'm not going back to being a "localtarian". I'm going to be vegan.

I guess if I'm gonna eat like a hippie, I'll have to include more yoga in the diet as well.

Dear Neighbor

2011-01-13T21:16:00.000-07:00

This is the note I want to post in my neighborhood, but I don't think I can manage something even this simple. It seems less silent than you must be to manage a crisis of this kind.

Dear Neighbor Who Bludgeoned My Dog With An Ax:

The next time you see an animal in your unfenced backyard, enjoying the pay dirt of your illegally ranging chickens, please run out of your house with a broom instead of an ax.

You have broken my heart, my family, and my faith in humanity.

Sincerely,

Your neighbor

Our beautiful, joyous, mischievous, escape-artist husky rescue, Miss Maya Manners chose to go exploring in the neighborhood last week. We tried to round her up, but she refused. Shortly thereafter she found and killed a chicken in an unfenced backyard, ranging behind a knee-high plastic fence. The "Man of the House" ran out and beat her with an ax. AN AX. Intuitively we do not believe his story, our vet who had to see her and put her down doesn't believe his story, and Animal Control does not believe his story. However, she was at-large and "he felt threatened" by a beautiful, 36lb furball who ran hastily away from any confrontation. There is nothing anyone can do.

PS, Neighbor: The blows you struck indicate that you were holding her and she was crouched in a fearful, submissive position. You let her sit in your backyard brain damaged, crippled, and bleeding for an hour as you waited for animal control to respond. I would be very sorry that she killed your chicken if you had not already taken your own grotesque retribution.

I am not sorry. I am deeply sorrowful and deeply mad. I talk about shielding myself with gratitude (thank you for calling Animal Control), but it is only enough to keep me functioning, barely.

Maya Manners was a joyful and loving distraction from the void that Beata and Tuco left. Now the void is deeper, darker, and more painful. I throw my remaining love and attention to Finnegan. He is a wonderful, happy, eager dog. I am thankful for him.

In sorrow,

Lisa

Tuco Benedicto Pacifico Juan Maria Ramirez otherwise known as, The Rat. 16 of the most solid years ever lived and sad only for the ones he left behind

2010-11-11T20:35:00.006-07:00

I met Steve Edwards an evening at the Greek Festival and despite asking him to walk me home I thought, "that guy is intense."

Then I started running into Steve Edwards at the coffee shop and he thought, "is she really going on about comic books?" and his bewilderment showed in his lack of warmth.

Then one day... "who's this?" and in his nonchalant, decisive way Edwards motioned by pointing his finger, "that's Ratso."

Nonchalant and decisive was the Edwards I knew, but the Edwards with this beautiful, fluffy, devoted, well-behaved dog... that is a man with a soft heart I had not yet met, but was extremely interested in.

As Edwards and I texted back and forth like middle-schoolers, many of his text were telling me about Ratso's eccentric behaviors. "The Rat is sitting in the car with the door open. He wants to go somewhere." "The Rat is barking at me and biting my hand, he wants to do stuff." "Well, The Rat and I went climbing today" (as if The Rat were his belay).
I married him and inherited Ratso who ultimately took to me. How does one know when Ratso "takes to them"? He let me touch his paws. :)

When we got married, Ratso was our family at home... the only one who had any inkling of what we were up to. Then we added Beata and I was so grateful for the example The Rat set for "not wanting any trouble", being "picky about food", walking off-leash, and manipulating situations. With his guidance, Beata started acting perfect and we had the makings of what anyone would call, a family.

We had almost 3 wonderful years together. Ratso survived a doggy stoke and some arthritis, but otherwise just got to grow very, very old. It was clear that life was no longer what it should be for a dog and his punishment for years of fitness... despite a real desire and willingness... was that his body just wouldn't crap out.

In the end, we had to help him along but we know he was ready. I take comfort in knowing that Beata is waiting for him, eager for him to introduce her to all his old friends. In this past terrible month the tragedy is that Beata's life was cut so short and Tuco's life went on so long. There is just no winning with death.

I read a quote that talked about how having your dog die and not adopting another is like saying the bad outweighs the good. Our family was pure joy and I am so grateful that Manners and Finn are here to remind us of all the good. A home without Ratso would be no home at all... unless Manners is here to act equally as cold and annoyed and Finnegan is here to be equally as energetic. Love doesn't dead-end.

R.I.P: Tuco, The Rat. You are missed by all.

Sleeping Beauty

2010-10-11T20:50:00.007-06:00

When I first saw Beata she was waiting in the car with Tori. I didn’t know which of the two dogs she was, but I hoped that my dog-to-be was the brown one with the perfect little brown eyes, little brown ears, and white striped nose. Cara said, “which dogs is cuter… be careful…” and then didn’t make me actually tell before introducing me to Beata: The little brown dog.

It was just supposed to be an overnight visit to see how we got along, but once she chewed up my Harvard graduation flips-flops there was no going back.

She was a little angel of a puppy. We jumped feet first into training and mastered sit, down, off, stay, and heal without any hitches (and in two different languages). “Come” was another story, but all I ever really had to do was turn my back and yell “Bye-bye” for her to come sprinting over, with a smile on her face, excited about wherever we’d be going to next. Devoted but independent; Attentive but ADD. My little Beata.

For years, Beata put up with my long hours in the Mayor’s Office, even walking in with me on weekends for another boring day in the office. She got time in the wilds during the week thanks to her dog walker, Russin, and when we weren’t urban hiking to the office… we were playing together in the mountains. She was a funny little thing. She got out of her collar once and got to explore the Wild Oats on 4th South, she was always a good girl and never tried to eat Rocky’s parrot, Cardozo, and she kept intruders away from the house with her terrifying, bloodthirsty bark. She had a nice life. She was my constant, most patient, and most loving companion.

She also had her pack at Cara’s house. Tori, Copper, and Drizzit. Her best friends: two pit-mixes and a great dane, a formidable bunch. They grew up together. Drizzit, the Great Dane has recently passed, Copper and Tori are still with us. If ever I wanted to get her excited all I had to do was say, “Copper. Tori. Drizzit?” Sweet little girl would perk up and stare, shaking in excitement at the prospect of playing with her friends.

I have to admit to asking Cara to readopt her while I tried to make the worst relationship of my life work. The only good thing that came of this… ending the relationship and getting her back. This time, Steve Edwards was her gift for coming home.

Beata took to Steve like most girls take to tall, dark, handsome men. She became his groupie. She still liked me, but she absolutely adored him. His working from home allowed her to do nothing but stare at him all day. And she did. The cutest little Steve Edwards fan in the whole world!

The last two and a half years her life, that started out abused and abandoned, had become pure perfection. She had a loving boyfriend in Tuco. She got to play outside in the mountains or on the trails every day; she was an awesome, awesome rock climbing “crag dog”; was a bundle of irreplaceable joy; and made up the fabric of our family. We became the 3 generations of Romney-Edwards. Grandpa, Mom and Dad, and little girl flirt. She never wanted any trouble, only to play, sniff-stuff, be chased, chase gophers, and be with her family. While her love and concern for me was overshadowed by her love for Edwards, she was always, always happiest when the whole family was together.

Now, our family is minus one and I cannot believe she is gone. After a year of different vets misdiagnosing her with arthritis, we did our research and found out she had a torn ACL. We went to a veterinarian on a recommendation, looked up his credentials, met him, liked him, and committed to surgery. Unfortunately, he sent us home with a medicine that turned out to be nothing more than pure poison. He never said a word about the dangers. We were foolish enough not to research them ourselves. Previcox. "Just an anti-inflammatory". Never, ever give this to your pets. http://www.k911.biz/Petsafety/DeathByPrevicox_RowdysLastVacation.htm

For the past 9 years Beata has been my friend, family, and love. She has never judged me for my choices in food, films, music or men; or even been mad when I tell her not to bury her bones in the garden (because she always did it anyway). She never wanted anything more than to be loved and not abandoned. She was the cutest, sweetest, most loving little dog. My heart aches that I will never see her wag her body at me again, or get to cuddle on the couch with her while Edwards is on business trips. Edwards and I lost a vital member of our family last night, and Tuco lost his “girlfriend”. Every day she brought him energy and life.

I probably won’t stop talking to her for a very long time. And how will I deliver sour opinions of my husband's hygiene if she isn’t there to pass on the word? I plan to cry for days, and weeks, and years. I feel robbed. Tori feels robbed. Copper feels robbed. Cara feels robbed. Tuco feels robbed. And Edwards is the most robbed of all. She was our joyous, bizarre, beautiful little brown dog. I love her so much. I will always have a hole in my heart where Beata should be.

RIP: Princess Beata.

(more pictures to come. Top: A picture from the last evening we spent cuddled up on the couch together.)

The Experience of Heritage and Place in Sicily

2010-06-18T13:49:00.007-06:00

Part I: Genetic Markers

Cathedral in Notto, Sicily

While being 100% Ethnic Mutt, there are a few pure origins in me. The first is cultural, my paternal grandparents are from Mexico; the next is ethnic, my maternal grandmother was full-blood Northern Italian. What I found in Sicily is that an impressive number of my natural tendencies seem to match closely with the Italian Genetic Code.
Piazza Duomo for Breakfast

First, and always first-thing, BREAKFAST. Most people consider it a bad and unhealthy habit of mine that breakfast consists of tea and brioche. Well, the Italians don’t and this traditional breakfast is the first manifestation of my Italian heritage. The best part of my vacation days was always at the café on the Piazza Duomo having tea and a croissant with the my Italian brothers and sisters.

While on the topic of ingestible items, my tastes seemed to match perfectly with Giusi’s. She determined early on that I always made the correct dining choice and left it to me to pick restaurants and sometimes even what she ordered. Fortunately, Giusi and I were soul sisters, with our tastes and humors closely aligned. It was a lot of pressure, but having the trust of Giusi in food selection was an honor I wouldn’t have deserved without my grandma’s Italian blood. Dinner with Giusi, Normal Guy, Phil and Lena (taking the picture).

I think this one was obvious before I left for Sicily, and I’ve always just chalked it up to being a girl, but I love shoes. So do the Italians. Memories for the rest of my life will pale in comparison to the shoe shopping treatment I received as Giusi’s shop, Millepiedi, where I sat in the middle of a hundred pairs of shoes trying to find that one pair that would work for the London pub crawl and a few extras just for fun. Not only do we Italians love shoes, but also we love the process of “discovering” them. Edwards' Italian shoes from Millepiedi

The final, but most fun, genetic match I discovered was a mutual love of the opposite sex. It is no secret that I love men. Love, love, love men! It was clear in Sicily that men love women, women love men, and there is absolutely NO SHAME in behaving as such. Compliments, attention, and eye-candy abound in this pheromone-enhanced culture. Any time I was without Edwards, I got to taste the charm that is Italian men and while I’m not sure exactly what the cute, blonde Sicilian was saying as he gave me a private tour of the Duomo, I did understand that he felt I was as beautiful as the Duomo itself. Ahhhh, I love being Italian! My favorite male specimen!

As a nod to Edwards (as this was meant to be “our” blog), the kind of rock and type of climbing available in Sicily also seems to match our preferences. If we were rich people, we’d be there now, restoring an old farmhouse, harvesting olives from mature trees, and climbing in a spectacular cave with undiscovered artifacts of the Byzantine known only to those strong enough to make it up the routes. Italy has no shortage of climbing to suit our physical needs and our lifestyle goals. Now, all we need is a mastery of the language and we’ll fit right in! Normal Guy on a very hard route in a very nice cave.

Tuco's Dramatic Role

2010-02-27T15:30:00.008-07:00

Tuco has more friends around the globe than any dog before him, and he keeps seasonal residence with two families who love him very much in Salt Lake City and Santa Barbara. He turned 15 this month and is the picture of health, as Edwards detailed in a recent blog.

Tuco's got his own ideas on things and almost all of his actions are premeditated. Last night, he must have been after the Oscar for Best Dramatic Role.

Around a lot of details, I had to leave Tuco at home while I took Beata and Copper on a hike last night. When we left, he settled onto the kitchen floor. No biggie. When we got home 1.5 hours later, he had moved in the kitchen, left one small turd in his wake (not abnormal these days), and was still just hanging out. I put his food in front of him and he wasn't super stoked to eat, but he didn't seem anything outside of normal. Halfway through my movie I decided to go say hi to him. Oh no! The Rat was splayed out and his underbelly was drenched in, well, not sweat. Poor guy was panting and unable to support his weight to move or even get his legs under him. Well, I'm not a real reactionary, but with Edwards gone for just over 24 hours, Tuco was not giving up the ghost on my watch.

Kindly, our neighbors helped me get our stinky dog in the car. Everything at emergency care went as expected, which is to say, there isn't anything wrong with Tuco. He stayed the night so they could monitor his heart, which is 15% weaker than it should be, but here's the thing: "He doesn't want food." (ah, yeah, if you aren't frying up some fresh bacon, he probably isn't interested) and "He has gotten snappy" (EXCELLENT. Back to normal.)

When I picked him up today he was alert, walking, and happy to be heading home. He had also run up quite a tab! Oh well, like I said, he's not giving up the ghost on my watch!

He is weaker than normal and I'll continue to keep a close eye on him, but my feeling now is that this whole "I'm having a heart-attack" thing had less to do with reality and more to do with a big fat pout about Steve Edwards going on an adventure without him. (That's right honey, he knows what you are doing in Mexico and he doesn't like it!)

For everyone who knows and loves Tuco, he's OK. However, if you are in the area please make sure you come by and wish him a happy 15th year. At 105 human years, I'm not sure how many more chances you'll have.

Birthday Challenged

2010-02-16T17:57:00.014-07:00

My anxieties were growing Friday night when I picked up my packet for the Moab Red Hot 33k. The room was buzzing with all kinds of “we love running” and “we love running together” energy. I felt lonely, but gave myself a cheesy little reminder to relax and focus on the fact that the challenge will be meaningless if I don’t learn more than I already know.

WHAT I ALREADY KNOW: I know that I can somehow finish a 33k. I know that I’m so good at judging myself that I can suck the joy right out of any experience.

WHAT I DON’T ALREADY KNOW: I don’t know if I can run 33k in less than six hours. I don’t know if I can quiet my self-judging little mind enough to enjoy it.

Off to a rocky start at the condo, my Birthday Challenge morning started out with a lot of fear and frowning. At the starting line, everything changed. Everyone was so… nice. Edwards, of course, knew people in the field and they immediately invited me to run with them. This little group split up within the first mile but their support got me off-and-running.

Next, there was a girl from Colorado whom I paced nicely with until the first aid station. It would be the furthest she had ever run as well and it felt good to have some company in the experience.After the first aid station we separated and I trotted on ahead.

After running alone for a little, I found another girl – not chatty – whom I would begin a game of “leap-frog” with. Looking back I guess I would have passed her and stayed ahead the whole race if she hadn’t gained advantage twice when I a. got off course and b. hit the deck when my right foot slipped in an icy little divot. I didn’t realize it because she’d taken her jacket off, but I passed her on the way to the finish line. She was walking. I hope she wasn’t injured and I do appreciate that she always gave me someone to chase after.

From mile 8-12 there was George. George runs with two walking poles and I was very envious (just imagine the pressure I could take off my hips if I had my own walking sticks)! George was super nice and tagged along behind me encouragingly for quite awhile. I thought maybe he was just going my pace, but then I saw a picture of my backside, which I believe explains his company a little better. With so much inspiring scenery, I'm flattered to have had George right behind me.

When Edwards met me at the halfway mark it was a curse and a blessing. First, the curse. When my man showed up something in me got all “girlie.” My man had arrived! How had I survived without him? How was I going to survive without him carrying me? No matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t help the emotional shift that happened when Husband got there. Mostly though, it was a blessing. He scouted the course, found easier routes, let me know the last aid station was a lot further than it was supposed to be, gave me water, talked to me, encouraged me, popped Cliff Blocks right into my mouth, and took pictures. He was just fantastic.

The elevation map they published pre-race was a bit of a sandbag. The steep uphill part was correct, but the steep downhill part? I guess if they mean the last 2.5 miles (not the last 9), sure… It made 6.5 miles a lot longer and harder than I had pictured, but, what was hard? The whole thing was quite miraculous. I was running, in spectacular country, I didn’t care about my time, and I was smiling.
I didn't even know I was smiling, that's how good it was.

I was surprised to find near the end that although I expected to have gas left in the tank to power up for the last few miles… I didn’t. I had enough to coast in at a reasonable pace, but there was nothing left for a glorious, arms up finish line performance. I guess for a Birthday Challenge, you know you picked a good one when you have just enough fuel to finish.
You can almost see the word FINISH between all the people. I was SO excited to be there!

My time was a surprise. 4:34 minutes. Since 6 hours was my goal, I was very, very happy. Despite natural inclination, I continue to NOT compare myself to other people. I did AWESOME for me. It was difficult. It was further than I have ever run before. It was a magnificent way to spend my birthday.

WHAT I LEARNED: I can run 33k on a trail in less than 6 hours. I can turn down "the noise" and have fun!
Look at the little girl "gaining" on those lean ultra-runners!

Celebrating with a little Veuve Clicquot and conspiring for next year... 34.

Romney's Red Hot Birthday Challenge

2010-02-09T21:57:00.005-07:00

When Edwards and I met, he was in training for his 47th Birthday Challenge.

47 Miles on his fixed-gear road bike.
47 on-sight climbs
47 Miles on his single speed mountain bike
47k of Running

To be completed in 24 hours

He succeeded and I was so much amazed that I proudly and adamantly proclaimed that I would never do a Birthday Challenge!

Fast forward two short years and someone went and organized a Valentine’s Race in Moab called the Red Hot 50k. Only, it’s not just a 50k, they also have a 33k, and don’t it be it all that I’m turning 33 this year? Two days before my birthday I have the opportunity to run my first ultra which happens to be 33k for my 33rd Birthday.
Training for the Red Hot in the FREEZING cold!

I realize that for many athletes and most trail runners this doesn’t sound like much of a challenge. For me, it borders on “damn near impossible”. Let’s weigh the governing factors which have shaped my running career.

1. Auto accident #1: I broke my femur. The surgery required cutting through the length of my Gluteus Maximus and I still have two screws above my right knee and a rod that sticks out of the bone and into my hip. When these foreign objects catch nerves… it hurts.

2. Auto Accident #2: Two torn ligaments in my right knee, pelvis cracked in five places. Physically all it really did was add insult to injury (and further hinder my performance in sports that require strong, fast legs).

3. I am predominantly slow twitch muscle fiber which never really allowed me to shine in the sports people care about. Sure, I was always decent at The Mile but that never overshadowed my poor performance at Dodge Ball (or Baskeball, or Baseball, or Football, or Gymnastics...).

4. Recent knee injuries due to previous tears or new damaged caused by being old and active.

Needless to say, I don't run.

Darned but they don’t call it “The Birthday Pretty-Hard”.

So, the goal is 33k, before they close the course or - if I'm being ambitious - in under 6 hours.
http://mas50.com/redhot/

There are days when I’m sitting around and think I’ll just get in the zone and run for however long it takes. Then there are days when I’m running and I think, “this is going to be impossible.”

Assault on Western Europe: Part VII. Final Fantasy

2009-07-27T18:12:00.026-06:00

France
Thursday, April 23, 2009
How happy am I in the Loire Valley?

I spent just three and a half weeks there and my entire being still aches to be back in Europe; Alisa and Bruce no doubt see this coming and are aching to figure out how not to leave!

This day started out with a visit to a B&B that might have served as a viable option for Bruce and Alisa to stay on the continent. Might have, had it not been saddled with a satanic past. It was gorgeous, but I’m pretty sure the low price was not because the owner was anxious to be generous… it was cheap because she was anxious to disconnect from it.

The B&B did take us within walking distance of the glorious village of Cordes, so after I ran screaming from the house of the well, I high-tailed it to Cordes for a few hours of shopping. Shopping without Edwards hurrying me on to the next café or a spring classic bike race! This was my only chance to get any real souvenir shopping done and I do hope my mom and sisters like their gifts!
Edwards climbing at the Roc de Gorb with Bruce on belay.

After finally, no thanks to the South African realtor, reconnecting with Edwards and the group, we all headed out to the Roc de Gorb for some climbing. Bruce, Alisa, Ben, and Anka cycled there, while Edwards and I took the Hippo. It was nice to see Bruce harnessed up again, and to see him kill a few routes. It was humbling to see Anka so comfortable on her first climb. Darn athletes and their darn athleticism!
Bruce and how he feels about climbing now-a-days.

Later we had dinner in Najac where I learned that there is nothing better than dinner with new friends, old friends, and a view of a castle. I recall that the hot chocolate crepe we had for dessert was so tremendous that it made the entire dinner; whatever it was, fully spectacular! The great addition to the evening was Fenwick, Alan’s dog, the little black version of Ratso. He came in and said hello, but was shortly off to do whatever it is smart, independent dogs do. At the end of the night he came running to Alan’s whistle… just like Ratso would have. It was a cute goodbye to very good people: Ben, Anka, Alan, and sadly, even Alisa and Bruce. The next day we’d be off to the Loire Valley.
A perfect setting for our last meal with friends.

Friday, April 24, 2009
The Manoir les Minimes

After much gratitude to Bruce and Alisa, as well as leaving some climbing gear in case Bruce decided to get out again, we departed to do girl stuff. I’d been a (pretty) good sport about all the cycling and climbing, but I wasn’t leaving France without seeing some fairytale castles!

At Alisa’s suggestion, we booked a room at the Manoir Les Minimes. When we arrived, it could not have been more perfect. I don’t know how to describe it, as I’m not well versed it period furniture, or the different flowers that bloom in France, all I can say is that this was the France that the little girl in me recognized and adored.

Our room was number #12, with a view of the river and the castle, and parlor area in which to enjoy it. The windows were “storybook” perfect and opened to the scent of the freshest purple blooms. I was certain a blue bird would alight on my finger and we would have a song together. Didn’t happen.
Out our perfect window

While I could have lounged in my French Style princess suite for the entire afternoon, Edwards has no patience for such things. We set off to see the home where Leonardo DaVinci spent this last days and to tour around Amboise. The trip to Leonardo’s house was most intriguing; I still can’t get over how many things he invented. The anemometer? We use these to site wind farms today.
The home where Leonardo daVinci spent his last days.

Next we strolled down Town Square and had our first Ricard in France. We sat next to the Amboise castle wall at a bustling café. Edwards ran down to the shop and purchased tobacco and rolling papers for a smoke with his pastis. He’s so adorable.
Amboise Town Square

Our concierge booked us dinner at the best restaurant in Amboise - Pavillon de Lys. The establishment has one seating per night and they had one table left. It was the most incredible dining experience of either of our lives. They had two menu choices: Menu or Menu Legumes. I did the Menu Legumes and this is what I had:

Carrot Soup
Artichoke Spread
Poke Egg
Mushrooms
(Each more spectacular than the last)

Tomato soup with cucumber cake – in a glass, with a straw.

Spicy and sweet vegetarian lasagne

Almond chocolate tarte with vanilla glace
Strawberry Ice
Chocolate crisp with mango sauce
Crème in a cup
Macaroons and jam

Two courses of soup and 5 desserts? This meal must have been designed for me personally and it could not have been more perfect.

Edwards had the Menu and with it came four goat cheeses that were unlike any cheese we have tasted on the planet. Surely Wallace and Gromit found them on the moon. They were absolutely spectacular. This is what happens when you can use raw dairy.

After dinner we walked down the dark, narrow streets. It was so beautiful it reminded me of Zurich after our elopement. We went back to the hotel and enjoyed ourselves as we did on our honeymoon, but before I slept I wrote:

If rural France is about the lifestyle, the Loire Valley is about the Fairytale. Even though I’m tucked tightly into my bed, my heart is doing cartwheels down the street.
The streets of Amboise from Amboise Castle

Saturday, April 25, 2009
Amboise Chateau

Chateau Day in the Loire Valley. My notes were slim; the memory was captured digitally.

We on-sighted four Chateaux:
Amboise
Chenonceau
Cheverny
Chambord

All pictures are from the Chateau in Amboise. There are more photos, from the other castles, available on my Facebook page.
Even the instruments were glorious
A beautiful reason to go to church? The Chapel at Amboise
Our Manoir from Chateau Amboise
Loved, loved the luggage!
Edwards, always attempting to be where he shouldn't be.
Artistry in architecture
Amboise castle grounds
How beauty was captured before the photograph

Sunday, April 26, 2009
Fontainebleau, France
Our last B&B outside of Fontainebleau

After cramming the girl stuff into two days, we were back to climbing and both of us were excited about it.

Edwards had been going on about the boulders in Fontainebleau since our plane landed in Paris. Upon seeing the forest, yes, there is very much to go on about!

The forest is quite lovely, if you like that kind of thing (I prefer the SKY), but it does have 20,000 boulder problems going for it…
The only dry area in the rainy a.m.

Unfortunately, the rain had picked back up in France and the sandstone boulders were soggy. We managed to locate the one dry, overhanging area in the forest and shared it with a couple of nice chaps for most of the day.
Edwards getting a spot from one of the Brits while he worked this traverse.
Bill on a dry boulder in the afternoon

Bill Lucia, who had just returned from Bangladesh, was at this dry boulder and he shared the rest of the day with us as well. We bouldered; went into town to view the Fontainebleau Chateau from the outside, have some pastis, the’, café, and snacks; and then went back to bouldering. Later in the day things had dried up a bit and we were able to mess around on some Fontainebleau boulders for real.
Edwards working a dry problem in the afternoon

We had a wonderful B&B our last two nights in France with very kind owners and a perfect, perfect breakfast. While the dinners our last two nights were utterly disappointing for France, the ambience of the restaurant couldn’t have been better. Adjacent to the Dame Jouanne area was a real back-woods, climbers paradise of old shoes, equipment, rugged service, and cheap eats. The autographed pictures of Lynn Hill and other famous climbers were bonus. http://bleau.info/jouanne/
Our last room, fitting that it was called, "Voyager"

And that’s it. Our entire trip in a nutshell.

While this ending to a very, very long blog might seem abrupt, it is not so jarring as having to tear ourselves away from Europe after three and a half weeks, only to come home to Salt Lake City – where our food is dead and our responsibilities lie. The final note I made from our final day…

“Must leave tomorrow. TERRIBLE!”

Assault on Western Europe: Part VI. Escalada Conquistadors

2009-06-21T11:03:00.015-06:00

Rodellar, Spain
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Rolling into sunny Spain

Although it was still pouring buckets of rain in Luchon, our gorgeous hotel was warm and dry inside. With coffee and tea for breakfast, and the company of swallows painted and diving happily all over the walls - artistic and joyful - our moods were warmed for the adventure that lay ahead.

After an exciting drive up the Pyrenees - with Edwards chattering endlessly about cranking on his bike up this twisty mountain road - miraculously, there it was, like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, El Sol.

The Spanish mountain towns were glorious with new stone architecture that perfectly mirrored the old, and lush spring mountain climates. Down in the valley's it was a much drier landscape, but familiar and beautiful. Not to mention, the highways were straight and well signed, though we still managed to get turned around a bit on our way to Alcazar.
Alcazar, Spain

Alcazar. A lovely tourista town. The mountain guide there was very friendly and recommended that we get chalk for climbing at the large market in Anahuesca. "Well, large for around here." In my minds eye I pictured something the size of, gasp, a Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market. I should have been thinking more along the lines of a large 7-11! Anahuesca was pretty much on our way to Rodellar and the mercado was magical. The couple was very nice, and though the wife spoke very good english we still tried to do our best with Espanol. We found chalk, cheese, pastries, other odds and ends, and my favorite Brian Froud book, 'Faeries", but in spanish, "Hadas" Oh, glorious day! The Mercado owners booked us a room near Rodellar in a hotel where we could also get cena - dinner.
Our inn near Rodellar

It was very kind of them to book us this room, for we had a wonderful time chatting in our broken spanish (with some assistance from our English/Spanish phrase book) with the owners. Their son is currently playing basketball for Midlands, TX and is being recruited by the best college teams... Kansas, etc. They wanted to know which team Edwards thought was the best... all of them were impressive teams. Their kid must be an amazing player! We would discover all this over cena a la ocho, but after checking in, we ran to check out the cliffs at Rodellar. First glimpse of the cliffs in Rodellar

Talk about making it to Mecca! Until this day I was luke warm on climbing in general. After a few hours at Rodellar, I have to admit to being pretty stinking stoked! Now I'll climb anywhere, so long as the next time we go to Rodellar I can make a reasonably impressive showing on more of the routes. Of course, I'll only be impressing myself. Most of the climbers there are GOOD climbers. Better than I'll ever be. We explored the entire valley within sight, and crossed the FREEZING river twice, but settled on climbing at El Camino... one of few walls with routes easy enough for me. El Camino, Rodellar

I can't say enough about El Camino. Belay bolts say it all... a secure belay for a 100 pound girl to belay her husband in comfort. AWESOME! The Spaniards have yet to let me down!

All in all, this was an amazing and perfect day. I can't wait to explore more of Spain. Apparently I've made it sound so fantastic even my younger brother bought himself and his friend a couple tickets to Madrid to go see what all the fuss is about. They were not disappointed! Espanya es muy bueno!

Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Round up

Wednesday turned out to be another perfect, sunshiny day in Spain. Edwards rounded up coffee in the morning, and happened to catch the morning sheep round up through town as well. He says it was quite the attraction. After breakfast, a few important purchases (olive oil), and checking out we headed back to El Camino cliff. It didn't take long to get worn out. The climbing there isn't easy, so fully pumped and with a little more exploration on foot, we had to hit the road back to France.
View from our room at the inn
last look at El Camino

We made one last stop at the Mercado to thank them for their help and pick up some more delicious road trip food. We met a refugee there this time. He was from, oh no! I can't remember the African country, but... somewhere and was excited to speak English with us. He was not as in love with Spain and wanted very much to join his brother in New York City. Apparently he wanted to work hard and make some money, and the Spanish lifestyle shuns such things... not a bad in our book, but I can see where he is coming from.
Scenic Drive

Our drive back over the Pyrenees (for the last time) was filled with more spectacular scenery, and while we had much to look forward to during our last few days in France, we were sad to say goodbye to Spain. No worries though, we'll be back for more exploration soon. Yeah, as soon as I have available vacation time again!
Spanish winery. One thing they take seriously.
Parting shot!

Assault on Western Europe: Part V. Fear and Loathing in Andorra

2009-06-07T16:49:00.005-06:00

Andorra
Monday, April 20, 2009
The Unholy Country of Andorra

Without any real intent to see Spain this trip, we decide to wander on over (and over) the Pyrenees Mountains through Andorra and then to stay the night in our "home country" of France before settling into Spain. I was excited to be on the move and very excited to see Andorra.

Well...

Andorra is a sandbag. If you took Las Vegas, NYC, and Vail and put all three areas into Little Cottonwood Canyon you would end up with Andorra la Vella - and that's the best part. Okay, the setting is lovely (you keep trying to think), but what the French politely describe as a "hard edge of tax evaders" was really just a beautiful geography made grotesque by money and greed. Driving through was disappointing, but the appalling nature of what is being constructed and the high end retail of fashion and cars allowed room for amazement, if not actual enjoyment. Instead of stopping in this place for even a souvenir magnet we stayed in bumper-to-bumper traffic to roll through as quickly as possible to the freedom, beauty, and sunshine of the Cataluya Region of Spain.

Crossing from Andorra to Espanya was glorious. Spain has not thought to rub elbows with the gluttony of Andorra, so the border becomes what the Pyrenees aught to be - with no gilded opulence and cheap concrete construction. Just mountains and sunshine.

Unfortunately, we were not staying in Spain this night. We had to head round to Luchon, France. The weather in Spain was perfect. The air was dry and the views lovely. The one town of any notable size, Sort, was perfectly enjoyable. There were happy people and we could communicate just enough to laugh and ask questions.

Also, we were stopped by the police on the way down to Sort and they were SO nice. Obama fans and willing to speak Spanish with us despite our struggle to understand. I liked that!

In Sort there was also a baker, who wanted to speak English a little. She asked where we were from and told us she had never left Sort before. It felt so nice to interact with people again. It was not as easy to do in France. In St. Antonin we could, but still much easier in Spain.

After Sort we drove back over the Pyrenees to Luchon. It was a downpour and town was deserted. It is probably quite nice in the right season, but that night of, "it's raining it's pouring the old man is snoring..." just really made us anxious to get back into Spain.

Assault on Western Europe: Part IV. The French Revolution

2009-05-21T15:28:00.021-06:00

FRANCE
BONJOUR!

Monday, April 13th: Today we drove. It is a long trek from Roubaix to Sanvensa, and just when you think you are almost there, you hop off of the highways and onto country roads. Country roads in France rarely point the direction you need them too and always come in quadruplets (meaning: you’ve got to take at least four of them a long way before you get to where you are going). It is a lovely way to see France though, and Bruce and Alisa sure found themselves a perfectly charming home in the French countryside for their sabbatical. Solid rock, lavender shutters, wood-burning stove, a little bit of rangeland, and a swimming pool. It was so nice of them to share it with us!
Les Costes - Bruce and Alisa's sabbatical home.

Tuesday, April 14th: On the menu for our trip to France turned out to be sleep and food. These are two of my favorite things, particularly when I don’t have to feel guilty for enjoying them. Before we left, I did have dreams about waking up in the morning, hopping on a bike, and riding to the village for bread and flowers. Unfortunately, my sleep patterns were not synching with the French lunch hour (when everything closes), and the weather didn’t want to cooperate either. Never has the adage been truer… “April Showers Bring May Flowers.” Too bad we didn’t get to stay long enough to enjoy the blossoms.

Some shots from a rainy'ish day

Today, after some morning rain, things dried up enough to go explore some climbing areas in the region. First we stopped in Saint Antonin, Bruce and Alisa’s favorite village, and walked around a bit. I, of course, got some Haribo gummy candies at the shop, and we both fell in love with this little town. We approve of the “favorite village” choice!

After St. Antonin, we stopped at a few walls, until Edwards happily found one with a ridiculous approach that he said was perfect… just like a climber would make. At this cliff we met Paul and Lisa, and their German Shepard. Paul and Lisa are two ex-pats who had moved to the area for the climbing. It was excellent to talk to them about their experiences moving to France from Britain. It seems that the language is the first hurdle and then finding work in a country that aggressively protects the jobs of citizens is the second. They were very nice to visit with us for so long, but they clearly wanted to get back to climbing and we hadn’t come prepared so we headed off.
Color-coded routes at Bor et Bar climbing area

Hungry by now, we went back to Saint Antonin and ate at the pizza counter. Really: a window/counter that opens to the sidewalk. I had to muddle through some language barriers having to do with cutting the pizza, how many times to cut the pizza, and whether or not my husband had already paid, but that was fun. The pizza was, of course, delicious. We considered our pizza an aperitif and were already thinking ahead to dinner… Alisa was cooking.

Bruce and Alisa had a marvelous idea to have the couples take turns cooking each night. This is a splendid idea for any kind, hardworking, and unselfish set of couples. Unfortunately, not knowing me, they couldn’t factor in my fear and loathing of the kitchen. Instead of taking turns cooking… we took turns providing meals. Alisa is a wonderful cook and made us amazing dinners. On our nights to cook… we ate out. Fairish, no? Also, we wanted to see and experience French culture and some of the best places to do so are in the restaurants. It was very nice of them to take nights out on the village as a reasonable trade for a home cooked meal (which would have been TERRIBLE if I had cooked it).
Something that doesn't hate rain.

Wednesday, April 15th: Arg, wet again. I think we slept in and went climbing. All the rain was making me disoriented. Of course, finding a dry cliff in the afternoon was a bit of a challenge. When we thought we had, we found wet pockets all over the place. The climbing area was pretty interesting though. Hard and moderate routes that were immediately off the road, behind a bunch of trees, and next to the river. Really not too shabby.
The roadside climbing area

One thing I discovered more fully about myself while we were in France is that unless it is coming down as snow, I really dislike precipitation. Nothing is more depressing to me than rain. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for an afternoon thundershower that dries right up like in the Rocky Mountain West, but the desert in me doesn’t like for things to be soggy.
Penne from the Amiel climbing area.

After climbing a bit, we went to Penne. This hamlet has a medieval castle perched high on the hill. We decided we very much loved Penne, it is so beautiful how could you not? We had un café’ and un the’ au lait at the little lunch place in Penne and met a most friendly German Shepard. He again belonged to some ex-pats. Maybe the only dog they allow to go back and forth between Britain and France is the German Shepard? I’m still bitter that you can’t take a dog with a drop of pit bull blood onto British soil. Poor little Beata, she’ll never see London Bridge!
Edwards' buddy in Penne

After the café’ stop, we went to Amiel, a little cliff that Paul and Lisa had told us about. We only had time for a few climbs, but it quickly became my favorite cliff in the world (this opinion would be amended later).

For dinner, we again found much joy in French cuisine! We had a most fabulous pizza dinner in Villefranche. I had a goat cheese and honey pizza… unbelievably good. (In fact, it inspires me to go get a pizza crust, some goat cheese, and apply some of my raw honey. I think I can do this at home…). Also, we had some lettuce that was out of this world. If anyone knows where to locate tasty butter leaf lettuce in Utah, we are in the market!
Funny climbing area at Bor et Bar

Thursday, April 16th: The weather looked like I might stay dry and while Edwards desperately wanted to get some climbing in, it was market morning in Villefranche. Not to mention, we needed to swing by a sports store and get Bruce some shoes so he could come climbing at Amiel with us.

Oh, the market! Beautiful and crowded. We had a little shopping list and a map for the vendors we needed. With very, very little French in our verbal arsenal, we needed that map to be correct. We found everything we came for (plus some gummy candies) and after perusing just a few shops on the square, and stopping for un café’ and the’ au lait, we headed to Les Costes to round up Bruce and Alisa for some climbing at my “favorite cliff in the world.”
Market Day in Villefranche

That day Amiel was sitting in a banana belt for weather. The hours we were there, we watch countless rain storms wrap around us but leave us dry. Blessed location. The climbing at Amiel is mostly really brilliant. Edwards, of course, found some weird route that was super sharp and ultra un-classic, but called it a classic and made everyone get on it. I don’t know how Bruce endured it with such a huge smile, when I would climb it the next Sunday, I would not be smiling. No matter… this day, everyone had fun.

Friday, April 17th: There was probably more climbing this day, but mostly, there was Cordes. Cordes and Gaillac Wine. If Cordes wasn’t a tourist destination it would beat Saint Antonin for “favorite village”. However, it is certainly up there on the list. French Winery in the Gaillac Region

Before we saw Cordes we went wine tasting, we didn’t do the big tour from place to place, but just went one place and sampled from several wineries. I must admit, I’m not a huge fan of Gaillac wines, but Edwards like them and now has a red Gaillac shirt that I can rarely get him to take off… he’s such a little boy. Despite my not loving the wines, we purchased a couple of bottles to have on hand. You can never have too much wine on hand when you are in France.

After wine tasting it was off to Cordes for dinner. Cordes is picturesque. Lovely, quaint, and French in every way. Not to mention, Edwards was in absolute wonder at the steep, steep cobbles. Belgium has nothing on Cordes! It was at the bottom of town that we found our magnet from France… a tiny toy bottle of Pastis. My well traveled little sister has taught me that magnets are the perfect souvenirs: small and fun to look at. Our magnet collection is growing fast! We ate up at the top of town (one of our few meals we have pictures of). Of course, again, it was delicious! Superb!
Restaurant at the top of Cordes

Saturday, April 18th: “THE SUN CAME OUT FOR REAL!” (This is the only note I wrote for the 18th. I don’t think the sun stuck around, but I must have been pretty excited to see it!)
Obviously, somewhere cool.

We went climbing at Amiel again. I only did 3 climbs, but they were all 5.10s. Later, we went back to the cliff that was sorta dry and right off the road. Here, I got on a 5.12, but it was too hard and I stuck my finger in a hole that was already occupied by something slimy (small frog, slug, deadly eel?). Gross. Let me down! I do not like slimy 5.12s!

That night we had dinner with three of Bruce and Alisa’s closest French friends. Ben, the ex-pat; Ahnka, the German; and Alan, the original Beatnik. Not to mention Alan’s dog, Fenwick! Fenwick was awesome! So much like Ratso, but all black and about a third the size. The company was amazing, the food and ice-cream couldn’t be beat, and the whole evening made me wish two things very much: that we could stay, and that we could speak French!
The Rosetta Stone Monument to help me decipher French!

Sunday, April 19th: Today the rain was back, so Bruce and Alisa took us sightseeing. I honestly must admit to not having any idea where we were. I recognized some of the rock from photos I had seen of them cycling, but other than that… no clue. We saw lots of beautiful country, learned about “plague houses”, and bought our way into the Museum of the Absurd! The pictures speak volumes, but kudos to Bruce and Alisa for being able to speak both French and ART! They gained themselves an invite back in the summer for dinner. Way to win over the “outside artists.” The artist is the man holding his dogs’ butt… again… volumes!

I’m not sure what we ate or did after that. We were all still pretty wrapped up in the Museum. What a tremendous amount of creative energy to walk through and explore.

Because the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain… we decided the next day it would be time to check out the Spanish side of the Pyrenees Mountains.
I know it is sad, but gummy candies really are just my favorite!

Assault on Western Europe: Part III - Hell of the North

2009-05-20T23:16:00.004-06:00

Paris-Roubaix
Sunday, May 12, 2009

Last year Edwards made one of his infamous, daily, my credit card is already in the system, and online purchases of a coffee table book that later arrived at our house. “What is this?”, I asked. It looked like an overpriced book of photographs taken of muddy cyclists. Is this my husband’s version of porn? “No!” he emphatically refuted me. It’s Paris-Roubaix. It’s awesome! Look at it...

Less than a year later, there we were lining up along the cobbles with the crazy Flemish fans… waiting for muddy cyclists to pedal past. The only disappointment, this year the weather was perfect and the boys were dry.

Slideshow on Facebook... you might have to be a part of Facebook AND a friend of mine to see it.

What is there to say about Paris-Roubaix? Having ridden the cobbles in Belgium, I cannot comprehend how they do it. The cobbles are so jarring on a road bike that they made me black-out when I tried to ride them fast, and my fast is those guys’ get off the bike and walk pace. This one-day race is brutal. Really, really brutal. For the fans though, it is a good excuse to trot out the majorettes and local hack musicians, get drunk on Jupiler, eat brats, and cheer on the obsessive-compulsive pro-cyclists. It’s like a festival for indulgently bad behaviors.

But, when the sound of the helicopter cuts through the air, and you know the riders are on their way, it gets pretty exciting.
Tom Boonen

We started our day at the beginning of the Pave’ d’Arenberg. They say the race is decided by the end of this forest, so we decided to see what things looked like going in. We got there early to partake in the festivities and cleared out as soon as they passed to catch another glimpse further down the course.
Fabien Cancellara

After our roadside stop at Section 13, we headed to the Velodrome to catch the finish. While we were in transit, Thor Husolvd wrecked and Tom Boonen took a commanding lead. The race was his for the third time and thousands of fans cheered him through the finish. We had cheap seats (free) outside the ‘drome. It was great.

After the race, we went back by all the buses and checked out all the bikes. At the bar, there was a toast that past between Edwards and Bruce, and lucky for us, Boonen came through on his bike. I believe Bruce got b*tch-slapped by a guard for patting on the back!

The whole day was truly quite awesome. Go Boonen! (And here’s hoping you get off the cocaine and race again real soon!)
Tom Boonen knows he's the man

Assault on Western Europe: Part II - The Battle of Belgium

2009-05-16T16:40:00.017-06:00

BELGIUM:

Wednesday, April 8th
The ferry ride back to France was a bust. For some reason, this one carried no scones or clotted cream. Rather unpatriotic, don’t you think?
Classic and Flemish

LAND-HO and it was off for a frustrating and confusing drive to Belgium. Fortunately, we found the town we were looking for; unfortunately it was ten minutes after the Gent-Wevelgem classic bike race ended. To add insult to injury, it started pouring down rain AND (as was to reoccur whenever we split up) we separated for two minutes and lost each other for thirty.
A picture Bruce took of the Gent-Wevelgem Classic we missed.

Reunited, we headed for our hotel in Gent. Bruce and Alisa found it, and though it sounds funny, “The Holiday Inn Express” it was quite nice and very European. When we arrived they were shooting some TV show, or something, and had to ask us to move our car. This woman ran up looking really annoyed and speaking ticked-off French to us. Our blank stares gave away the fact that we had no idea what she was talking about and her demeanor changed when she switched to English and politely asked us to move our car. They speak Flemish in Flanders and we later found out that the offenses of the French against the Flemish have not been forgotten. You do better to speak English in the area than to address them in French.
Our Holiday Inn Express Room. I wish our house was this... Zen.

The bicycle culture in Belgium is a beautiful thing. Half the population gets around on commuters, even in the rain, and they all look quite stylish while they are pedaling. I love it.

The restaurant recommendations from our hotel hosts were ridiculously nice, so we found our own way to the Café du Arts and continued the trend of fantastic food in Europe. Belgium has become know for amazing eats, a village outside of Bruges seems to be all the rage for restaurants. Gent was plenty delicious for us, and when we finally caught up with Bruce and Alisa, they met us at the Café for round two of our dinner. Fantastic.

Thursday, April 9th, 2009
Bruce and Alisa are very relaxed travel companions and kindly let us sleep in as late as we liked. Edwards got up before me and headed downstairs for breakfast and café. The three of them met this awesome couple - husband works for Sram bike components and wife just loves to ride her bike - who taught them all about Belgium (because they’ve been coming to the Spring Classics for 8 years) and gave them some tips on watching Paris-Roubaix.

After I finally emerged we headed out to pick up a rented bike for me and then to tour the classic climbs on the cobbles. Once we found Jowan’s Bike Shop, the boys and girl were in heaven. I might have been, had my bike not been a ridiculous 1970’s color orange, but I was alone in this opinion. Everyone else loved it.
Jowans Bike Shop.

We all took off on our bikes only to face around the first corner one of the steepest climbs of our ride. At least it wasn’t on cobbles, but… ARG! I’ve been sitting on the back of the tandem so long I’ve lost my technical riding ability. Trying to balance my bike up that hill was a mentally crippling challenge. What was I going to do on the cobbles???
COBBLES

Bruce, Alisa, and Edwards are all much faster riders than I am, and I’m stubborn and had no intention of keeping up. More than ride my bike… I wanted to see the country. Edwards would just have to wait for me at important intersections. Phhhhttt!
Someone... on the cobbles.

For Edwards, finding the first cobbled climb in Belgium was like striking gold in Alaska. So cute my husband is! He rode them fast and got WORKED. I rode them slowly and bumped along. We toured around between proper pavement and cobbles until we reached what Edwards was really looking for… 20% incline cobbles… The Koppenberg. Alisa rocked it almost to the top and then took pictures. Bruce had his back tire slip and was toast, just below where Alisa was standing. I hopped off early and Edwards climbed the whole thing… with a huge smile on his face. Man on a mission, he loves the cobbles.
Alisa rockin' the cobbles

After the climb, it wasn’t far to Oodenarde for a snack, tea, and café.

The ride back to our vehicles was torture. Flat, but maybe windy and further than I expected for sure! Edwards came back to let me draft, but I couldn’t keep up. Finally we got back to the bike shop and the cars. Jowan himself came out to see how we did. It was super nice of him and Edwards was thrilled.

Showering back at the hotel was a miracle and at 10 p.m (soon after returning from our ride) we headed out for dinner at Amadeus. Amadeus is an All-You-Can-Eat Ribs restaurant that looked NOTHING like our rib joints in the U.S, but still looked ridiculous. We all enjoyed our meals, and left at midnight completely exhausted, but happy. It was a marvelous day.

Friday, April 10, 2009
Lazy morning, again, but poor Edwards woke up with a sore throat and a mounting cold. Terrible for him, but it means I got a rest day without having to ask! We poked around, even took a 20 minute nap, and finally decided to leave the bikes and go climbing.

We drove towards Luxembourg and I wished a whole lot that we could go there. There is a long standing joke between me, my little brothers, and MST3K about Luxembourg. Sadly, before arriving in Luxembourg we found our cliff… just to the side of an old castle, now army base, there was a very polished limestone cliff covered in routes.

The first couple of routes were quite nice and it felt excellent to be doing some easy movement after the bike ride the day before. We ran into some brits with a guide book that Edwards sprinted off with, while I chatted. Then, we headed off in the opposite direction of the routes he had looked at in search of a 3 star route he read about in the guide. Let me just say, we did not find it. Instead we found a beautiful cliff that looked great and fun from the ground but was an absolute NIGHTMARE once on it.
The NIGHTMARE

First off, there were so many routes and bolts that Edwards led the most divergent route in the history of rock climbing. Then he put me on it. I was total crap and by the third bolt and the struggle I had unclipping it, I was coming unhinged. I went to the fourth bolt under much duress, but colorfully convinced Edwards to let me bail before I made it to the fifth. On his trip back up to clean… he noted that it really was total crap and really hard. After that, we left.

I nearly died on this climbing trip, and it wouldn’t have been the worst way to go, but I’m not going to detail it out because it is too incriminating. I’ll just say that if they don’t want you taking the clear and defined trail then someone should put up a sign.

Dinner that night was rest stop food. Some of the rest stops in Europe are just awesome and the food plenty good enough to eat. We had a sandwich and frites and made our own fry sauce with purchased condiments. Of course I picked up some Haribo gummy candies as well. Unfortunately, easy climbing wasn’t easy enough and Edwards felt worse by bedtime.

Saturday, April 11, 2009
The eve of Paris-Roubaix and another bike ride for the four of use. Two more classic cobble climbs were slated for the day. I did one, but uninspired, bailed on doing the Muur. Edwards loved the Muur and kept doing it, finally in his big chain ring. He’s such a doll! The best part of the day was sitting outside at the café at the top of the Muur and watching all the amateur cyclists make the climb. The best was the old guy, on his old fat tire bike, smoking past the young hipsters. Awesome.
Yep, I rode cobbles too

After the ride, we finally journeyed to where we said we were going all along! France! We stayed in a bad looking French town called, Vaneciennes in order to be well staged for the race in the morning. There appears to be considerable World War relics in this area of France and Edwards pointed out how great it would have been to have my little brother Scott there because he could have told us the history of EVERYTHING. Scott says, “yeah, or I would have made up something that sounded awesome.”

It sorta feels like we just disappeared from Belgium, but that's okay as we moved cleanly into our adventure in France.
Happy, happy Edwards after riding the cobbles in Belgium.

Assault on Western Europe: Part I - Conquering the Empire

2009-05-08T20:06:00.006-06:00

ENGLAND:

April 3, 2009
For all the wrong that Delta Airlines has ever done to us, we give thanks for the right that is the Salt Lake City to Paris direct flight. Now, you can check in at the world’s most convenient airport, take a nap while experiencing the miracle of human flight, and wake up in Paris! What a perfect way to start a 3.5 week adventure in Europe.

On April 4th, we landed at Charles De Gaulle Airport and picked up our little “Hippo”. Hippo is the name we gave our leased Peugeot after we discovered the awesome European automobile feature of rear view mirrors that fold in when the car is parked and locked. These folding mirrors looked like hippopotamus ears. Thus, Hippo. No time for Paris… we took Hippo straight to Callais, France and caught the ferry boat to Dover, England. Onboard the ferry there was proper tea, a scone, jam, and clotted cream. Our trip to England really couldn’t have started out any better than that, and we were glad we didn’t take the tunnel.
Little Hippo

Once we arrived on British soil, Edwards had to make the physical and mental switch to drive on the left side of the road. He noted that it is easier to do when the driver gets to stay on the left and not complicate matters by altering the side of his body he has to drive the stick shift with.

Our destination was Canterbury to visit with Todd and Patty who shared their flat, a delicious home cooked meal, martini’s, and wine with us. Todd is a bit notorious, being the co-writer/creator of the renowned and oft’ quoted film, Icarus Descending. Actually, maybe he is more notorious for the photo of him doing a one armed pull-up while drinking a beer. Obviously, one of Edwards’ closest friends.
Todd, Patty, and Lisa in the flat in Canterbury.

April 5, 2009
The next morning Todd and Patty blessedly let us sleep in and then poke around the flat for awhile. At some point the boys decided that we were to head off to Brockwood School to visit Brian immediately after lunch. We had lunch in the back garden of The Dolphin pub in Canterbury… the best part for me… proper tea! I adore ordering tea and having all the important bits and pieces come with it! – tea, tea pot, tea cup and saucer, tiny pitcher of cold milk, sugar, and a little spoon. Why is this so hard in America?

After lunch we actually did make a feeble attempt to see the Cathedral. We got right out front then discovered that I have already seen it, Edwards simply doesn’t care about such things, and Patty and Todd left their “locals pass” at home. We walked on by… in a hurry. Do you know there is a Starbucks Coffee immediately to the right of the entrance door to the Cathedral? Seems a little… commercial?

Brockwood (sort of, I like the daffodils)

After that, we said goodbye to Patty (who had much work to do), and the three of us went to Brockwood School, Hampshire, England. Brockwood is special. The landscape is special. The sheep had just had lambs and birds were singing the sounds of the British countryside.
Sheep and Lambs at Brockwood

Brian was on-duty until 8:00 p.m. so we all chatted and explored the school for a bit… had more tea… then headed to a perfectly appointed, quiet Sunday night pub. Edwards had the best fish and chips in all of England – so said the owner, and at least relatively close to truth – mostly though, it was the setting that made the night. Just perfect.
An evening at the pub

April 6, 2009
Todd and Brian made fun of us for sleeping in again… I think this was before Todd made fun of the luggage we brought. I believe he called it, “ugly” which is entirely unfair. It was good looking luggage in its day. Plus, it made my first journey to Ireland with me and that position demands respect! (even if that did happen an entire half of my lifetime ago). You cut me deep Todd, you cut me real deep.

We ate brunch at another pub, this one of particular importance to Edwards and Todd. The Thomas Lord, or “the Tommy lord”. When the boys filmed Icarus, they spent a lot of time in this pub and even filmed here. Not much has changed, except the food. The food was awesome. Even after 3 weeks in France, etc. this was one of the most memorably delicious meals of our trip! I had a cheese and pickle sandwich. That’s it. Cheese and pickles and bread. Memorably delicious. Oh, and tea.
Edwards and Brian on the coast with a British sky.

This revival of delicious food in England apparently comes from the leadership of Prince Charles. He started with his own garden and some chickens and began to vocally promote fresh, local food. The trend caught on, certainly in Hampshire, and all the pubs that we ate at were just brimming with fantastic local fair.
The approach to Dancing Ledge

After brunch, and dropping Todd off for the train back to Canterbury, it was time to go climbing. We drove to Dancing Ledge located somewhere along the coast. This was the most beautiful climbing approach through fields, a farm, and down a steep slope to the rocky ocean shore. It was absolutely magical. I only did one climb, and Edwards barely three because it started raining, making the hike out a bit treacherous. The climbing was nice though. Parts of the rock had been so polished by they ocean that they looked as if someone had pour hot wax over them.
Climber and Belay at Dancing Ledge

That night we ate at another great pub. I had my first fish pie and Celtic Coffee. A Celtic Coffee is really just an Irish Coffee of another name and with two inches of straight cream on top. If only we had such delicious cream in the United States.

April 7, 2009
My biggest disappointment before coming to England was that I Capuleti e I Montecchi at the Royal Opera was sold out the nights we would be in town. This was devastating news as my favorite soprano, Anna Netrebko, was singing the Juliet role and another woman I had been hearing about, Elina Garanca, was singing the Romeo role. I most desperately wanted to go.

Fortunately, Brian found out that the morning of a performance 67 tickets will be available to the public and all you have to do is queue for them. The box office opens at 10 and to be safe we needed to be in line by eight o’clock. This meant leaving Brockwood at 5:30 in order to drive to London, park the car, and walk to the box office.

The line when we arrived at 7:40 a.m, having made very good time, was short. We were 13, 14, and 15. Surely, this meant we’d be getting tickets! Now all we had to do was survive the cold, windy London morning for a few hours. We all took turns getting coffee, tea, and hot chocolate. We had friendly neighbors behind us and we rested easy as the gentleman at the front of the line was making sure that absolutely no one cut the queue! Actually, we firmly believe that that gentleman attends every opera, but has never pre-purchased a ticket because he LOVES the line so much. Just the kind of cheap but cultured man he was.
FYI: Romney is a FULL Dragon. Conceived and born in the year of the Dragon.

Promptly at 10:00 a.m. they opened the doors and we got three tickets, not all together, but three tickets just the same! We then took breakfast at a Parisian Café (our little taste of the Paris we wouldn’t be making time for) and then started walking to no one really knew where. We did no shopping and only sight-saw the things we walked passed. Of course, when we found the burrito place in London, Chimayo, the boys had to stop on the simple principle of the thing. It wasn’t good, but it was entertaining just the same.

Brian set up a rendezvous with Valentine, one of the actors from Icarus. Time: 1:00 p.m. Place: Mayflower Pub all the way across town. Even though it was far, we had nothing better to do, so we walked… finally arriving at 1:25 and definitely ready for some Guinness.

Valentine is great and has been invited to Utah any time he would like.
The best cup of coffee in London Town

After a meal at the pub, we took a double-decker in search of the best cup of coffee in London. The boys all imbibed. After that we changed clothes and went in search of the best Martini in London. Turns out the Savoy, the home of the best martini, is closed for renovations. So, we went for the second best Martini in town. There, I had a delightful cupcake that made me smile and that Brian said was the type of cupcake an Aquarius would be interested in.

The opera was absolutely brilliant. Anna Netrebko and Elina Garanca singing together was otherworldly. I was enchanted by the entirety of the opera. The simple orchestration, the minimal set, and the siren voices on stage. It was so beautiful my heart ached. I Capuleti e I Montecchi by Bellini remains one of the highlights of the trip.
One very bad cell phone photo as everyone left the opera for the evening. What can I say? They don't allow cameras in the Royal Opera Hall.

It was the best day in London my daydreaming mind could have conjured. I am so lucky to have my fantastically energetic husband who was more than willing to go on this adventure with me. Not to mention his wonderful and peaceful brother, Brian. Thank you both!

Simply exhausted we put Brian on the train back to Brockwood and slipped into Todd and Patty’s flat in Canterbury at 1:00 a.m. only to wake up to catch the ferry in Dover by 8:00 in the morning. Thanks to Todd and Patty for their patience given our whirlwind tour!

Mucho Gusto El Amate!

2009-03-31T19:58:00.005-06:00

With all the cross-country skiing I did with the dogs did this winter, I didn't think the cold and grey was getting me down. Then we spent a weekend together in St. George... there was sun. Beautiful, warm sun.

Saturday I got to toddle around with Beata and take intermittent naps in the glorious rays while Edwards and Bob worked on their climbing. I found a perfect goat skull on one of my brief adventures and delivered it back to Edwards as a prize. He was impressed. When Edwards asked if I wanted to climb, I was in such a good mood, I said yes! I completed the most perfect pitch in my climbing career right before we all called it a day. Finally, after a winter of hustle, I was outside in a lazy and delicious way!

Speaking of delicious... Bob Banks has great eye for mexican food. On Sunday, the boys spotted a new place and encouraged me to stop working and come with them because, "there are Mexicans in there. It's a good sign." In all earnestness, El Amate turned out to be the best mexican food in Utah. The guacamole would have made my Grandaddy proud and flooded my mouth with memories of growing up in El Paso and Las Cruces. The salsas are just perfect for added flavor and the enchiladas... my staple... they were better than any I've ever had... I think... I mean, I haven't been to Cruces in awhile. Everyone, please, eat there! It absolutely must stay in business and right now it is so new people in St. George don't even know it's there.

El Amate
974 W Sunset Blvd
Saint George, UT 84770
(435) 688-2324‎

With three tummies full of the best mexican food in Utah, we headed out for more adventures. Bob's adventure was getting he and Tuco back to Santa Barbara. That adventure sounded super sucky. Our adventure was Mt. Biking with Beata in a wind storm. Our adventure was better. WAY BETTER. Beata sprinted, sprinted, sprinted after Edwards, while we both tried to convince her that she didn't know what she was in for and she'd be healthier trotting along with me. She wasn't having any of it, so she just kept sprinting. Into the wind was hard, wind at our back... we flew. It was joyous. The sun was still warm.

Poor little Beata couldn't barely walk the next day, but she got to rest. We had a full day a meetings with one of us starting at 10:00 in St George, and one of us ending at 7:00 p.m. on the internet in Cedar City. Then... the sinking feeling of heading back to the cold.

What is this white stuff? Where is the sun? We want away. And... away we soon go. The bipeds in our family are off to France, etc., for 3.5 weeks starting Friday. Neither of us can wait.

stupid, fat couples, rolling their eyes about... that's just rubish

2009-03-07T22:01:00.003-07:00

Edwards has decided that in "Amadeus" when Mozart says, "watching italian opera, all those male sopranos screeching... ...stupid, fat couples, rolling their eyes about. That's not love, that's just rubbish." he must have been referring directly to Puccini.

We attempted our third Puccini opera today. Madame Butterfly. At intermission Edwards said, "watching a Puccini opera, produced by Anthony Minguella... I would rather be strung up by my toes and dipped into a vat of boiling oil." (actually, he didn't say that, he said something clever, but now neither of us remember exactly what was said). I also admitted to being quite bored, so, we left.

It feels strange to be opera snobs. When I first started going to Utah Opera performances, they could do no wrong. Now, it is rare for them to do anything right. Blessedly, the Metropolitian Opera started live HD broadcast that, at first, were absolutely captivating and precious in their perfection... today, we walked out.

First, when you see, listen to, perform arias from, opera often enough, you become discerning. It is no longer just music, it is like spending three hours with a stranger, seeing if you get along, hearing what they have to say, and ultimately... you might not like everyone you meet.

Second, when you are choosing to spend three hours in the middle of your Saturday indoors, butts-in-seats, it had better be good. We wracked our brains for a modern soprano who could have made that opera okay... we couldn't think of a soul. We do not like it Sam I Am. We do not like Butterfly Madame. (Really, it's more Puccini's fault directly.)

The upside is, when opera fails you, Utah's landscape doesn't. I picked up Beata for some cross-country skiing in Millcreek Canyon, and Edward's took Tuco climbing in Deaf Smith Canyon. (Note: one winter sport, one summer sport. A few miles apart) My sincere thanks to Puccini for sucking. Had that been a Mozart opera we would have missed a grand day out!

Hello, hello, bonjour, bonjour, hola, hola, konnichiha, konnichiha-ha

2009-02-01T10:19:00.006-07:00

This was a typical week, for typical people. Meetings, back pain, business lunches for weight gain, PowerPoint madness, driving the sales road, paying bills... Okay, we could never be totally typical. There was also some happy making "hang-boarding", gorgeous, peaceful cross-country skiing, spectacular "favorite-time-of-the-day" (cuddling/film watching), and other types of living our life.

Boring Week collided with Best Week on Thursday when hours on the sales road meant hours of talk radio. And what did I hear? Something about a free Michael Franti concert on Main Street Park City? Yep! Edwards confirmed online, Free concert! That very night! Top five favorite artists!

No big deal for the people who already knew and planned for this, but this is why I love our life! Me: Ski first. Edwards: Hangboard first. After: rendevous (with the dogs) in Park City for pizza (Davanza's, Tuco's favorite) and an evening outdoor concert in the middle of winter in the mountains with MICHAEL FRANTI!

Our pictures are as fun as the concert in that blackness doesn't facilitate knowing what you are going to end up with, so you end up with this. The sea of knit hats says it all! It was a throwdown!

When life and "our life" collide like this in one week, it wears a body out. Friday ended in a sick day. Saturday, the same. Sunday... we'll figure out a way to get back at it. We'll start by downloading the new Michael Franti and Spearhead album and dancing around to the Obama Song! "Barack Obama. Yes We Did!"

Best New Year's Eve Ever

2009-01-01T16:01:00.005-07:00

Edwards is really having quite an influence over Romney when the best New Year's Eve EVER is comprised of running. Usually I put on a fancy dress and fake eyelashes and have a night on the town. Not this year.

For our First New Year's Eve together we decided to take part in the Salt Lake Track Club's "Beat the New Year" 5k race. It begins at 11:30 p.m. and the goal is to finish the 5k before midnight. We did a pre-run this week to make sure I would be capable of jogging for more than the few stumbles it takes to recover from tripping off my high heels. I can.

New Years Eve came and we made the extraordinarily bad decision to eat a plate of nachos and drink beer before the run. Because of this, Edwards had made noise about possibly running the whole thing with me, which was sweet. However, he got injured on our warm-up lap and he had no choice but to hobble along beside me. Of course, this made the whole experience much more fun. Additionally, Edwards isn't as concerned with "the rules" as I am (and really there was no expressed rule against this) so he decided to bring Beata along. Beata is the cutest, most focussed little 5k'er in the world! She doesn't even mind being on-leash.

Every now and then I'd have to remind him that I'm not really a runner and that he was going too fast, but mostly we just trotted the course together and came in with 3 minutes to spare! Just enough time to meet our friends who also ran and grab a bottle of champagne out of the car. With a big cheery slug straight out of the bottle and a nice wet smooch, we toasted the New Year.

Sadly, no pictures. No proof.

Kick, Glide, and Giggle!

2008-12-28T20:45:00.004-07:00

To avoid the holiday hazards of too many tourist on the mountain, we've been cross-country skiing this season. We spend the odd calendar days at Millcreek Canyon dodging dogs, hikers, snowshoers, and other skiers on a silly, icy, snow covered road that really doesn't get nice until after the first 1.5 miles. On even calendar weekend days, we can go adventure a bit... Today we went to my favorite hiking trail, behind Jeremy Ranch, to see if it was skiable. We weren't even sure there would be road access miles out, but there was and the trailhead only had TWO cars at it. Two cars is quite different from the 50+ cars parked at the Millcreek Trailhead. This place was car to car skiing, and easier terrain for Tuco. We only saw one guy, one dog, and one small family out there today. Silent, beautiful, snow covered forest was our lot. Plus, Edwards got to learn lots of things about x-country skiing, because the variable terrain made him practice all the little tricks to controlling your skinny skis!

All our friends and family are invited to join us any time they want to come out! Edwards can't believe he found something that Romney loves to do so much! And I do, I do love to x-country ski!

These pics aren't from today, they are from our hike in the snow yesterday, but close enough!

Sadly, families like these are the reason Edwards and I cannot have children.

2008-12-20T00:10:00.004-07:00

In the news today was the headline "Woman in Arkansas gives birth to 18th Child". One mother, one father, 17 other smiling children. A simple google search revealed this story from July, "Canadian woman gives birth to 18th child." Two families; one westernized world.

At this rate, it would take Edwards and I, and 17 other couples not having children, to counter-balance the decisions these two families alone have made. Now, add in everyone you know with more than 2 kids, then imagine the people you don't know and the developing world, and try to figure out how many committed non-breeders it would take to bring the world in balance. I only know three other couples like us...

This is nonsensical. We must rise above our most basic animal instincts and bring reason to bare on our decisions. Is it not our reasoning skills that sets homosapien apart? Is it not unreasonable to insist that our species overwhelm the carrying capacity of the earth?

All I can say is, at least I'm not leaving anyone behind to live in an world overpopulated by people. To parents of one or two children, you should be even more disturbed by these burgeoning families... don't your kids need resources?

“I finally got the venue I’ve been looking for."

2008-11-03T21:38:00.005-07:00

That's right, I'm performing in an early holiday voice recital!

Keith Trickett, Lisa Romney and Danny McDonnall
Accompanied by
Chris Smith (piano) and Charlotte Bell (oboe)

Monday 10th November 2008
@ 7:30 pm
First Unitarian Church
569 S 1300 E
Salt Lake City, UT 84102

Admission Free

Please join us for a reception after the concert

This concert is a charity event. The aim is to raise $2500 for the Peoples Health Clinic in Park City. Members of the audience and well-wishers are encouraged to make a donation. This means, admission is free, but you have to pay to leave. Okay, you don't have to...

Pink Helmet

2008-10-12T12:35:00.003-06:00

This photo is a follow-up to my "Mean Boy" blog. I am a brat and my husband loves me anyway!

A Change in the Weather

2008-10-12T12:28:00.003-06:00

Things have been a little cold and wet around here. We're all getting a little bored.

If She Were A Rich Man

2008-09-16T17:37:00.007-06:00

I've been putting miles on the Prius lately driving up and down the Wasatch Front for work. Company policy prohibits operating a vehicle and talking on a cell phone, even with a hands-free device, so this has given me plenty of time to listen to news radio. I heard my first Hannity Show last week, enjoyed the superior reporting of BBC World News, and just today got to listen to a "Talk of the Nation" session focused on Sarah Palin and how women voters feel about her.

I listened to two females support her and one woman argue against her. No matter how often they, or the callers, said that it wasn't about her being a woman, I became quite certain that it was/is. This made me explore my own opinion of her and whether I had any underlying sexism in my ardent opinion of her candidacy. My findings... I don't. I'm certain that most others who share my opinion also do not. Let's think about it...

Had John McCain produced a man who was the former Mayor of a town of around 7,000 and the current twenty month governor of Alaska, who had: spent a large part of his time as Governor growing his family; used his office to wage personal wars; hired in a preferential and nepotistic manner; left his small town $20 million in debt; forced rape victims in his town to pay for their rape kits; sought vast federal earmarks for projects the State was unwilling to fund; sued to remove polar bears from the endangered species list; did not believe global warming is caused by humans; hunted wolves from airplanes, and offered a bounty for others to do the same; was a "creationist", anti-abortion even in cases of rape and incest, and refused to teach anything other than abstinence to children; attended 5 different colleges, finally gaining a degree in sports journalism; lacked the intellectual curiosity to travel, read, and pursue other cultural and creative growth opportunities; who could not respond to questions on the current "ethos"; believed he had strong foreign policy experience because you could see Russia from his State; etc. etc. ... I would be HORRIFIED, and so would more than 50% of the American public.

What is happening is actually the opposite of sexism. Worse than "white privilege" it is "white WOMAN privilege." So, for today, another film recommendation - "Burn After Reading" - a film where no matter the damage... an entitled white woman will get what she wants.

And we thought Romney-Edwards was unbelievable...

2008-09-10T18:28:00.010-06:00

When Sarah Palin was nominated by McCain the Democratic Party cheered, "No better disaster than this!" There was only a faint whimper that people might buy what the Republicans were selling. As blind Lady Liberty's scales tip to McCain/Palin, we should be aware that the whimper we heard may actually have been a visceral sob of defeat.

I know this woman. In our democracy, there is a breed of mean-spirited, over-confident person whose ignorant, one-sided values bring them to City Hall as a place to heap their misery on others. They find their happiness in brow beatings. They internalize abusive behaviors as personal accomplishment.

In the lower 48, these people are known as the "squeaky wheel." You would be astounded at how much influence they have, for no other reason than to quiet their constant assaults. It seems that in Alaska, one of these people had the tenacity to take her misery to the Governor's Mansion. Now, she has been plucked from the cold north to feed our societal narcissism.

I am aware that the culture that runs this country shares a belief that only they should have money, because only they are responsible enough to handle it. I am also aware that they want us to vote for McCain/Palin. War Heroes R Us. Hockey Moms R Us. If "We" are in the White House, "We" are content with power by association, and the wealthy elite continue their "business as usual."

The offense of McCain/Palin is not in the names I could call her, or the smears easily slathered on the man. The offense is the roars of laughter coming from above as they watch us slide rapidly from Democracy to Idiocracy, and if you haven't seen this film, "Idiocracy," you should.

Mean Boy

2008-09-09T22:27:00.004-06:00

Memories of my orthopedic surgeon screaming, "God Hates You!" at me, came flooding back as I tried to get my head out of the way of a 12"X4"X3" rock that my loving husband knocked off of a climb this weekend. Luck got my head out of the way; fate kept my left hand in the boulder path. Today, a millenia of evolution does nothing to help me button my trousers as my thumb is no longer opposable. However, with all the tender loving care being administered by my husband, I have great hopes for a full and speedy recovery.

In order to reduce the risks of brain trauma in the future, I would like a small, pink climbing helmet. Perhaps Edwards will get me one?

When the cat's away...

2008-08-28T18:51:00.008-06:00

The mouse goes to Kauai!

Edwards "had" to go to Beijing for the last week of the Olympics. I am told that this was work related, but mostly it sounded like a trip to fantasy island. Can you imagine, Mr. Most Athletic surrounded by the best athletes in the world? I soon realized that I would be lucky to get him back. You can read all about his trip at www.steve-edwards.blogspot.com

As a very last minute decision, Andrea (little sister) decided she needed a quick trip out of Vegas, and offered to cover lodging and car rental if I could get my butt to the Garden Isle. Right before he left I said, "Edwards, can I go to Kauai with my little sister" and he said, "ABSOLUTELY." Really? Cool.

We had 4 days to explore the entire island. We had time to snorkel, take long walks on the beach, lounge by the beach, skinny dip in the ocean, view a distant Luau from seats in a hot tub, rest, drive from end to end, eat lots of organic-local-delicious food, do some waterfall viewing, and get a little sandbagged...

Sandbag: brush fire closed the Na Pali trail, so there would be NO seeing the coast on foot; rough waters canceled our boat trip, so there would be NO seeing the coast by boat; illness put me in the hotel room watching bad TV almost one entire day.

On the upside, we did rejoiced the entire time on our decision to stay up in Hanalei and not down in Poi Pu. I got a Puff t-shirt, "In a land called Hanalei" and the town had the best vibe of anywhere we found on the island.

We took lots of pictures, but unfortunately none of the Swiss Family Robinson. There was an adorable surfer bum family with two toe-headed kids living out of their truck on a secluded beach. We figure the cost of living in Hawaii can be pretty low, even with kids, because weather permits nothing more than a diaper for clothing and the island provides everything else they need. So cute.

My trip to Kauai had some truly perfect moments, I missed enough to definitely want to go back, but my husband says Thailand looks similar, is cheaper, and has real climbing... so maybe that's my next trip. Maybe next time, if he's not busy fraternizing with the athletes, I'll take my husband with me.

The UnCool

2008-07-24T17:13:00.015-06:00

I can't imagine Romney/Edwards ever doing anything geeky. We're so cool, we should wear our sunglasses 24 hours a day, right? "Because when you're cool, the sun shines all the time..."

We love bad movies - cool, cooler than you.
Our political opinions are robust, well informed, rooted in historical experience, and right - again, cool.
I read graphic novels - freaking cool.
Edwards reads books on nutrition and fitness - so, he's pretty cool.
We both read the paper every day - smart and cool.
We own property in all the best neighborhoods for gentrification - one day we'll be rich and cool.
We have no offspring - our freedom and generosity is cool.
We have two perfectly behaved mutts. - the coolness runneth over.
We ride a tandem bicycle...

uh, oh, here is where a friend planted a viscious little seed... Perhaps all this doesn't add up to cool. Perhaps we are so cool, we've gone past cool, and now, we are... uncool.

Please consider the rest of the list:

1. We compost.
2. We recycle.
3. He rides a fixed gear, I ride a cruiser. For transportation.
4. I said, "Hell, yeah" outloud when I saw the movie preview for, "The Watchmen."
5. We got on the waiting list and bought a white Toyota Prius, because, you know, it gets the best gas mileage.
6. We regularly recommend, "The King of Kong: Fistful of Quarters." to people as a totally awesome movie.
7. Our dogs are the best dogs ever and we talk about them incessantly.
8. We replace all burnt out lights bulbs with compact flourescents.
9. We eloped to Switzerland because of a b-movie that very few other people find entertaining.
10. We like each other so much, we ride the same bicycle.

We are uncool.

Whatever. It don't matter to Jesus.

Pictures of our uncoolness: two geeky kids by their tandem, two perfect pooches, compost bin, that's a plug-in lawn mower, and the crowning glory... the prius.

Utah Mermaids

2008-06-30T23:07:00.007-06:00

Something my loving husband does is let me put mermaids up in prominent positions around the house. Once, when he was sick and trapped on the couch, he even let me put in the Hans Christian Anderson \ Japanese Animation DVD of The Little Mermaid that I used to watch when I was a wee babe. He's the best husband ever.

My fascination with mermaids comes from how stubborn, hard working, and creative that sweet and feminine creature was. And how loving her spirit remains.

Today, the ROYAL "WE" bought OUR first mermaid. She is glorious.

We also had a wonderful day at the Utah Arts Festival. We had beer and brats, and caught some music by our friend Misty Murphy before coming home with our new oil painting.

Yesterday we rode up Emigration Canyon on our Tandem. I love that bike. I always say it is because, "when I'm suffering - at least he isn't still getting away from me"... there was a moment on the climb that I wished he could get away so I could pedal at my own pace. I survived and it's good training. He took this picture at the top. My friend, Amanda, gave me the flashy jersey. I don't look like a gorgeous mermaid, but I doubt they'd look so pretty all dried up either.

Hot BAM!

2008-06-15T18:46:00.011-06:00

For some strange reason (eloping to Switzerland, buying a house, throwing a party, injuries, etc.) our focus has not been on fitness and training this year. It has been six months of relative inactivity for the Romney/Edwards clan until this very day when two of us got off the couch and kicked some serious tail!!!! (pun intended, you'll see.)

Edwards recently looked into a duatholon called The Battle At Midway (BAM). He might have taken a pass on the competition but one of the categories caught his eye... DOGGIE "DOO"ATHALON. A category for humans and their dogs.

Beata isn't a pup anymore, and she's never run at a human cadence. We know she is fast in short sprints, but neither of us knew how she would hold up for the 10K. As for Edwards... he hasn't jogged more than a couple steps since last November. He did get on his Mountain Bike yesterday, but I wouldn't call it "training".

All of this added up to an Adventure, so we loaded up the car... mt. bike, race shoes, leashes, and poop bags... and made our way to Heber City this morning. Beata and Edwards were the team. The challenge: Run 5K of trail with your dog, Mountain Bike 11 miles while dog waits back in the transition area, Run another 5K with your dog.

They started the race by firing off a snow cannon. Twenty six minutes later the two of them came back... happy as clams and in second place for the "doo" category. Edwards jumped on his bike, Beata got some water and waited impatiently for him to return. 5K, hah! She was just getting warm. The biking wasn't easy and took everyone some time. Edwards rolled in, in first place for the "doo." He thought it was pretty cute when I handed Beata back and said, "She's ready to run" and they took off. Another twenty plus minutes later and our CHAMPIONS came running past the finish line!!!! Woo Hoo!

Overall, I would say this was the best morning of Beata's life. I wasn't on the trail with them, but the story goes that she would look back and pick up the pace when other dogs closed in on them. She was hungry for first. She couldn't have been prouder.

Ratso was also in his element: bumming bagels, sniffing the joint, and locating the food. "Hey, you got some pizza there? Pizza's over here guys!"

I am just a proud and amazed wife and dog mom. I'm related to the two best off-the-couch athletes in the whole world! WooHoo and ArrOoooo!

Thanks For Joining Us!

2008-06-15T17:30:00.003-06:00

Here's a pic of the cards we got at our party. We're still waiting on some more photos to post, which should be coming soon, along with our official tandem shot. Thanks to everyone for coming to our party, especially all of you who came from out of state! The weekend couldn't have been better. High school "Dirk Diggler" shot came courtesy of my mom and has greatly impressed Romney ever since. Yeah, that's right.

Thanks Beachbody

2008-06-11T15:50:00.004-06:00

Shout out to the folks at Beachbody for their wedding presents and oh-so creative (and oh-so true) card (click on the pic to read it). I think we've probably got Jude to thank for the creativeness on that front. We should have a pic of us whipping a shake with the blender or sipping some coffee with the over-the-top but very cool coffee grinder from Team Saeco but, since we haven't managed to snap that one yet, we'll provide a pic of Jude's handiwork instead.

Special thanks to:

Tony (your check went straight to the bike fund, pics to follow)
Jude, of course
Joe
Renata
Tycene
Kenny
Nick
Trish
Brian
Bala
Monica C
Monica G
Ashlee
Delane
Carla

and

NeilE

Beachbody rocks.

Party Pics

2008-06-03T21:07:00.004-06:00

Given that very few of the 50 or so people here on Sat signed this blog when it was right in front of them we're not going to hold out much hope for an improvement via email. But since at least some of you will want to look at pics you've got a few more chances. It's easy. Really. You don't have to be signed in. Just write something.

Anyone who didn't make it last weekend missed a fun time. I do believe the Frank Sinatra toast was overheard more than once. "Here's to absent friends. Fuck 'em."

Here is Bob's slide show. More pics will get posted as they roll in this week. You'll want your sound on, though only some of you will get it. Jackie Treehorn draws a lot of water in this community.

http://www.king-dino.com/photos/victory/index.html

Please Sign our Guest Book

2008-05-31T09:47:00.003-06:00

Welcome. Please sign in here.

Click on "comments". Add your comment, click on "Name/URL", add your name, click on "Publish your comment".

Thanks!

Romney and Edwards

Kelly-esque Customer Service

2008-05-08T19:15:00.001-06:00

It is very strange for me to be married to a Candy Martian. This man knows absolutely everything about the nutrients of food, health, supplements, doping, fitness, etc. etc., and absolutely NOTHING about the beauty of refined sugar. To illustrate, he thinks disgusting purple gummy octopus are somehow comparable to red delicious Swedish Fish. Each time he’s allowed to shop for movie treats, or to venture into an AM/PM to procure candy, I’m reminded that his confectionary confusions are endless. In summary -- I'm picking the wedding cake for our party, alone.

Another thing about Edwards is that he finds bad customer service amusing. He seems to have a neverending array of anecdotes about rude or inept retail experiences to draw from. He doesn’t talk much about good service; but if we happen to step into a place filled with overtly rude or hapless employees he perks up and seems entirely happy. He even talks about hiring such people. One of his favorite employees was apparently a girl named Kelly who was so offensive to customers that she had a cult following. “Sure,” he says. “Sometimes she’d piss customers off so much they wouldn’t come back. But it was entirely worth it because she was so amusing to so many people. She even had her own coupon that went something like, ‘make Kelly mad, get two for one. Make Kelly smile, get three for one.’” Edwards should have been with me today.

I popped into two local bakeries to begin my cake my search. The first shop, Backers, was super nice. I told them I was "just starting" to look for a wedding cake. They handed me their album and said, "Stephanie can answer any questions you have." I had questions and Stephanie had answers. I walked out of Backers Bakery with options, prices, sizes, servings, and a timeline. Great. Thanks, Stephanie.

Next stop was Pierre's. A place with a top notch reputation near our home, where I have previously purchased baked goods without incident. There was a promising wedding cake display with two wedding cake albums, but no one was at the counter so I started to have a look.

After a few minutes, a girl finally emerged from the back. "Hello", I said. "Hey", she mumbles back. "I've just started to look for cakes." "Grunt." Alright, not terribly warm, but no biggie.

They had an option that looked interesting but I had some questions... "Can I ask you some questions?" She looks around as if to suggest “are you talking to me?” "Sure," she answers with a shrug (at this point I am the only customer in the store). "What kind of frosting do you use?" "I don't know. You'll have to call and ask the baker." She then disengages and if she’s got to help someone else but, as I said, there’s no one else in the place. I hadn’t meant to through her off. I would think this a pretty standard query for a store that specializes custom wedding cakes.

“Um, then is there a time when the baker will be here to discuss options?" She looks at me like ‘what? You’re still here.’ "I'll just go ask her, she's in back." (Really? She's in back and you told me to call?) She comes back she says, "We can do any flavor... We can do chocolate." (Hmm, well, that wasn't my question, which was more along the lines of what kind of frosting, like, Fondant or Butter Cream? Guess I could have been more clear...) "Okay... well, do you think I could ask her a few questions?" She looks miffed at why I would want to do such a thing then says, as if I pushed reset, "Let me go ask the baker…" A minute later…"No, she can't answer your questions right now." I want to ask her if her name happens to be Kelly but decide, instead, to actually try and continue my quest.

"Is it best to schedule a time to meet?" "Well, let me go ask the owner if she can talk to you." (So the owner is also in back. Is it strange to think they might want someone in front that knows something about the business?) At this point a mother and daughter have come in very excited to pick cookies. They are being ignored while I’m being treated as such an imposition that the owner needs to be summoned. “Kelly” emerges from the back, "She's not here, you'll have to call." "Okay. No problem." But then a mystery man from the back (how many people are back there?) hands her a cell phone. She rolls her eyes and mouths, "this is her." The part of the conversation I can hear goes like this... "There is a woman here who wants to talk to someone about a wedding cake.... Yes, I know all of that, that's why I'm calling... fine, okay." Hang-up. Then to me, "I'll have to get her card so you can call..." (Have to? From where? Aren’t we IN her business already?) Now there are three additional customers in the shop, also all being ignored. She has to walk to the other end of the counter to get the card. When she gets there one of the customers says, "Hello." She completely ignores him. She walks back and explains what number I'll need to call. "Great. Thanks." No, I won't be calling. But my husband, I’m quite certain, would.

Party, Gift Registry, and Stuff

2008-05-05T00:09:00.003-06:00

Not to be assumptive, but people have been asking where we're registered, so...

To re-iterate, we really don't need much. In fact, we've spent the last month getting rid of stuff. We could have used some things before our move (probably why people have weddings prior to buying their house together) but that stuff has been purchased so the house looks nice when you get here. Maybe we should set up a reverse registery where you can buy the stuff in our garage we're selling.

We do, however, really want/need a Tandem Bicycle. We are trying to find the best deal, best design, best color, best fit, but with our rings, wedding, and new home, new landlord status (when are rents going to adjust around here?) this is a distant hope without your help. Anything from $5 to $5,000 will be met with immense gratitude. It seems impolite to ask for cash donations, but we swear it will be going straight to something tangible (or necessary, depending on your interpretation).

To offer you a more traditional option... we have also registered our few needs at www.target.com. You can find our registry under either of our names. Be assured, anything on this list we really do want and need--okay, maybe the Saeco coffee grinder is a little over the top but Edwards says we should support them becaues they sponsored a pro bike team for years.

Finally, creative and innovative gifts are always welcome, of course. We particularly encourage Salt Lake City locals to shop Local First. A list of locally owned businesses can be found at www.localfirst.org. Please keep in mind, we combined two adult households. There was a lot more purging than buying. We don't have room for much, though Edwards did find space to squeeze a tandem into the garage.

For you out of towners, please rsvp asap, especially if you'd like to stay at the Monaco. We should be able to get rooms there for around $120/night. We'll probably have dinner/drinks at their restaurant on Friday night.

pic: bike wash day. seriously, we need more bikes. there are only two more out in the garage.

SLC Accomodations

2008-04-28T23:06:00.005-06:00

We'd love to house all of you but we can't, so here are our recommendations.

a. Hotel Monaco: In the heart of Downtown, this boutique, award winning eco-friendly hotel is the best way to experience Salt Lake City. Because we rule this town, we were able to get our guests a special Romney/Edwards wedding rate, but you must let us know ASAP if you would like to stay here. The rate will not be more than $200. Likely closer to $120. Has an excellent restaurant and cocktail lounge. Doesn't just take dogs but encourages them. Romney says, "I would live in this hotel if I could." Ratso says, "wooooooooo."

b. Marriott University Park: You will need to book this on Hotels.com. The rate there is very good. $89.00 per night. This hotel has excellent access to the Bonneville Shoreline Trail and the highways that get you into the canyons and Park City.

c. Super 8 on 600S: Cheap, wi-fi'd, takes dogs, across the street from Brewvies where you can get a burger, pitcher, and film for under 20 bucks. Edwards says, "If I were looking for crack in SLC, this is where I'd start."

Summary: Everyone should stay at the Monaco but both it and the Super 8 are essentially downtown and freeway access between 600S and 2300 E (where we live) is dead easy and quick. A slew of other hotels are here, too. The Marriot is up near the university and a killer deal but less convenient for everything except riding your bike--but it's excellent for that. It's even excellent for riding your bike to our house and, while not far from our place, you will need to go through a few stops lights if in a car.

Email or call and we'll try and arrange things. We'll have at least one extra car and we should be able to arrange shuttling people around a bit. Let us know asap if you'd like to stay at the Monaco. The more people we get the better our rate is likely to be.

Party!

2008-04-26T09:04:00.002-06:00

Mark your calendars. We've announced a date for our first party/reception. It will be May 31st. Details to follow but if you've found your way to this page you can be fairly certain that we'd love to see you here. Please let us know if you'd like help arranging anything. For those of you from out of town we will make it a weekend so pack your bikes, boots, and traveling bar.

Don't Call It "The Burbs"

2008-04-16T12:28:00.009-06:00

Let's call it "Canyon Rim" or "Campaign Headquarters", just please don't call it the suburbs.

We moved to our new home in Canyon Rim. The convenience of living with my husband would be OUTSTANDING... if we had gas for heat and hot water (Edwards is working on this). Right now, the convenience of "family movie night" is pretty impressive, all of us curled up watching a most enjoyable cycling moving called, The Flying Scotsman." It is pretty cool. We really are married.

Moving went smoothly, unpacking is coming along, and decorating is just a thrill that Edwards can't seem to get enough of!

Here a few pictures. Schedule your visits to our guest room soon!
Guest room
pantry with drink supplies for our guests
Edwards at work in the half-unpacked office
Ratso staying out of the way down in his "cave"

Beata

2008-04-06T23:13:00.008-06:00

Beata, it means "the blessed" in Latin and "newest addition to our family" in Romney-Edwards speak. She was my beautiful little pit-bull/probably Vizsla mix whom I had to give up a few years ago. Today, we got her back.

Ratso "likes" her. Of course, he's hoarding toys and just made it clear she is not to touch his ball. Our sweet little Pit is pretending like she couldn't clobber his 13 year old butt and defering to the older, wiser dog who gets to be off-lease when she doesn't. She's not stupid.

She's seven, and still a spaz. She's bilingual, fluent in Irish (Gaelic) and English commands, and will make an excellent running partner for Edwards. Oh, and the treasure we buried just got a little safer, because if Ratso snarling isn't scary enough, the blood thirsty pit bull should be. Thieves and Scallywags beware!

Of course, good people and their puppies need not worry, because she is super sweet and happy. Probably just happy to be home.

The Bad Habit

2008-04-02T07:45:00.003-06:00

I woke up to this message from my wife, who is away at a conference in Baltimore. “I knew something cool was about to happen when I got all giddy about my new friend who did not want to sleep with me. So cool that now I cannot sleep without him.” Not sleeping in Baltimore probably doesn’t seem odd to anyone versed in the work of John Waters, but this inspired me to shed a little light on the story of us.

Lisa and I have always been inseparable, in the most serendipitous kind of way. We just didn’t always act on it. We met through our friend Marti, most randomly, and spent an entire night talking. She asked me to walk her home. Rae Dawn (my fixie) and I happily acquiesced. She was special, I could tell. But no moves were made. No info exchanged. We were both just out of relationships and I was quite content to be doing my own thing. Besides, I knew I’d see her again.

We’d meet randomly at hippie (Alchemy, our local coffee house) with Marti and the Gym Jones gang. We’d gravitate towards each other until we found ourselves alone, the others long departed, bantering endlessly about politics, social issues, music, bad (and even sometimes good) movies. The MST3K connection was too much.

“Let’s get back to this Mystery Science Theatre thing.” We opened our phones.

“Romney, like the Presidential candidate?”

“Edwards, like the Presidential candidate?”

Our first email interaction made me smile. She could write, too—an elusive talent in this day and age. And the banter exchange accelerated.

We transitioned to another phase with no hesitancy but plenty of reserve. I was referred to as her “bad habit,” which suited us just fine. We were single; and committed to stay that way. Ben heard her reference apologized. “No,” I said. “It’s perfect.”

But it wasn’t perfect. As much as we tried to avoid it, life was better as Romney/Edwards. Our resolve was weak. When one wouldn’t call; the other would. We accelerated. And this wasn’t a part of either of our plans.

“We should just get married or go back to being friends.”

A quip is all it was. But it, too, accelerated because we both knew that it was true. The problem was that we were good together. Really good. A different experience for both of us; one that didn’t fit into our immediate plans. We weren’t ready. The latter was enacted.

It was a disaster.

You can’t plan love. You can’t plan life. Not if you’re an explorer, anyways, and we were both decidedly that. So we switched to the former and nothing I’ve ever done has seemed so natural.

There was only one thing left to do….

Cosi fan tutte

2008-04-01T15:05:00.004-06:00

Our campaign had one evening in Zurich and the polls suggested that we spend it kissing hands and shaking babies downtown. This put us within heal-toe,ing distance of the Opernhaus Zurich. (the opera house). Cosi fan tutte is how I know I've picked the perfect running mate...

It wasn't just the flawless acoustics and brilliant performances that made this the most memorable opera of my life. It was sitting next to my perfectly capable, athletic, little boy of a husband, whose idea it was to go that night, and knowing that I want him sitting next to me forever.

Apologies, don't vomit, cut me some slack. After a marriage ceremony that started with a quote from U2's "Still haven't found what I'm looking for," (not shittin' ya) attending the opera was the perfect way to spend the last night of our honeymoon in Zurich. AND, we walked home along cobblestone streets in lightly falling snow... you can't fault me for being sentimental.

Skiing Under The Eiger And Posting On Our Blog

2008-04-01T07:47:00.001-06:00

Sorry these pics suck but a camera phone was all we had whilst skiing. Nice scenery, no? The ski area is epic. Romney, who's a much better skier than I am, hurt her knee on day two (well, it was hurt before--sorry, Kevin, we've been way slacking on taking care of it but we will now) which squelched our plan to do a huge ski tour. From our hotel you can ski down one mountain, tram and train up the other side to the Schilthorn (from James Bond's On Her Majesty's Secret Service--oh, the bad film references just won't stop in our lives, which is what happens when MST3K is the catalyst for your relationship), ski down that entire mountain, tram over another, ski down that one, up another, down it, then take the train back up to the Kleine Schedeigg. It's like a massive ski mountaineering tour except you don't have to walk up. In the pic you pretty much ski everything in site, which is all included in one ski pass.

Since some pretty computer saavy people have been having trouble commenting I'm going to post instructions. If it still doesn't work just send us an email and we'll post for you. First off, the comments are in a pop-up window so if you have those blocked you need to allow them on the site. Then you just follow the prompts. Write you comment and choose Name/URL as the posting option, which will allow you to add your name. You don't need to fill in the second line. That should be it or, for a more appropriate film reference, picture Freitag pointing to his proposed new route on the Eiger and casual waving at the steepest and most intimidating part of the face and saying, "Then it's up to the top."

Yep, piece of cake. Just remember; a climber always brings home his dead.

Video, Slide Show, And Other Updates

2008-03-31T08:47:00.000-06:00

We finally have the web page looking nice and a formal announcement will be made soon. So far, only family and a few friends have been in the loop. Check out the video page. The lower link has higer res images but no effects or music.

The video takes you with us on our wedding day: shopping (because Delta sucks), getting married, riding trains, playing in the mountains, and an impromptu party with super excited ski instructors. It was "PERFECT!"

Apple Cake and Other Feats of Swiss Engineering

2008-03-30T08:45:00.000-06:00

We were finishing dinner at the Bellevue Des Alps one evening when our waitress asked if we would like for dessert "a little Apple Cake..." Oh yes! my head bobbed enthusiastically! Oh yes!

The image my american mind conjured was something along the lines of a light apple-y carrot cake, but I just knew that wasn't what we were about to get. What did we get? Imagine a sugar donut. Now put a cored apple in the middle. This is "apple cake." Awesome.

I saw the history of building the train up the Jungfrau on a tourist video, on the train. It goes like this, "One man had a dream. 300 workers and decade later, they tunneled through the Eiger, created viewing points out the face, and continued on up to 'the top of Europe' where they hollowed out the glacier and built a restaurant, research station, and a house." Awesome.

Why would they do this? One drunk guy in a bar convinced 300 of his drunk friends to chissle away inside one of the most beautiful mountains in the world for over ten years? How much Brandy would that take?

And... I'm not even going to start on the trams and cable cars... the swiss will never cease to amaze me. Situated in the heart of Europe, they stayed out of the wars didn't they? Awesome.

~Lisa

Like Camelot

2008-03-27T08:47:00.000-06:00

We just got home and will blog a bit more about our trip once we're caught up with work, life, etc. For now all we can say is that someone must be smiling on us (though it's not Delta). Anyway, the problems with our airline can wait wait to be discussed. We had perfect conditions for our entire trip. It was idyllic. Truly there could be no more beautiful place on earth than where we were married and spent our first few days. It was Camelot.
Above pic: getting a little fuzzy prior to exchanging our vows.
The view from our hotel window at Kleine Schedeigg, under the Eiger.
Gina Lollobrigida's got nothin' on Romney.
Agent Wormwood looking to exchange some microfilm in Zurich

Lisa under the Eiger and then in one of the train tunnels on the face."Why would they build something like this? The Swiss are insane."
Edwards in ice tunnels under the Jungfrau.
Lisa on the Jungfrau.The wall of the Bellevue des Alpes, under the Eiger.

Eiger Birds

2008-03-15T09:50:00.000-06:00

Today we take the train up to our hotel at Kleine Scheidegg, which is the only way to reach the Bellevue des Alpes. No doubt some of you will recognize this place as a condemned man's last wish but at this point we're not thinking about what will happen if we can't cling to the edges.

We awoke to a post-solstace snow storm so it's unlikely that our ground man will allow us to climb. Since my wife's a real brick shit house, I'm sure Freitag will be okay if his plan isn't accepted. With the newest American on the team we still haven't decided who is to be the leader.

Here are a few pics from yesterday...

Ratso's Fun Day

2008-03-15T07:25:00.005-06:00

We miss the rest of our family but at least he's in good hands. Our friend Erica is staying at our place and sending us daily pics on what he's up to. Yesterday's report was titled "Ratso's Fun Day" and came with these pics.

Woooooooo!

We're Married!

2008-03-15T07:25:00.004-06:00

Romney- Edwards 2008 is now official. We couldn't be happier. Story and photos to come. Right now we have to change our tax status. Right, or something like that.

It's Just Like Christmas!

2008-03-15T07:25:00.003-06:00

I woke up this morning to a bit of pink alpenglow. It felt like a good sign, so I jumped back into bed to irritate my sleeping husband-to-be. The past few days Ive felt like a kid before Christmas. Acted like a kid before Christmas.

In Switzerland this morning you can hear the sound of the american dollar as it plummets through the global economy, and I really want to know when Edwards' turtlenecks are going to arrive, because you cannot have an Eiger Sanction themed wedding if your man isn't wearing a turtleneck.

With a little Earl Grey and some godddamn coffee, we're having a lovely breakfast. Through the big picture window Edwards' is pointing out climbing routes on the Eiger, and I'm still wondering where our luggage is...

We're getting married today.

Elopement

2008-03-15T07:25:00.002-06:00

How do people have weddings? Our non-wedding "impromptu" trip to Switzerland has engulfed most of our life over the last month or so. This has a lot to do with the oh-so particular Swiss and their love of everything being just so--we even had to fly to San Francisco just to sign something in front of an certified Swiss person. Well, that and buying a new house. And work. Actually, keeping this from work is harder than keeping it from family. We're just about to get on the plane and hope they don't lose our luggage. We'll never find Eiger Sanction clothing in Grindelwald.

We'll write more later. This was really just an excuse to post cute pics of the family.

Welcome

2008-03-15T07:25:00.001-06:00

Welcome to our blog. As these are modern times (or end times, depending on your perspective), our journey is being recorded electronically only. In the event of upcoming apocalypse, we'll wander the wastelands anonymously; our iron and platinum wedding bands the only surviving vestiges of these halcyon days of excess. But we'll survive, because we are good at survival. And we're even better together.

In the event we don't end up in a nuclear pissing contest with the Middle East, our excess doesn't render the atmosphere beyond the realm of human breathability, the toxic waste being dumped in the oceans doesn't throw nature's balance into a chaotic state where ancient sea monsters again rule the survival of the fittest smorgasbord as the oceans engulf our land masses until all of our Utah properties are beach front...well, then, we'll just continue about our business of traveling, skiing, climbing, riding, going to operas, openings, festivals, fundraisers, while working to better our society and exploring our world, kickin' it with Tuco, and hangin' in our favorite coffee house(s).

Assuming the latter, this blog is where we'll post the chronicles of our trip to Switzerland, the events that follow, and how we plan to meet up with all of our friends and family in the upcoming months. Sign our guestbook by commenting on any of our posts. We'll be honored to hear from you.

Lisa and Steve