i was going to start kablpomo off with a ‘crap my aunt says’ but decided that might not be the best foot to start off on. got a couple of real doozies today though…
november is National Novel Writing Month, NANOWRIMO for short. i attempted and completed in 2007, attempted in 2008, 2009, and again in 2010, and attempted and completed last year. three years ago, i decided to start Kate’s Blog Posting Month (KABLPOMO [pronounced cable-po-mo]) since i tended to not finish nanowrimo and was really lagging in my blog posting. LAST year, i did both (although i did miss one day of kablpomo – it always happens around thanksgiving).
and, since i lost my previous kablpomos thanks to the great blog migration of 2012, i can’t even direct you to past entries. *sad face*
but, this year, kablpomo is shaping up to be a real winner. i’ve been compiling a pinterest board of crafts, foods, photo things i want to try out to see if they really do work. i am granting access to people to pin to that board, so if you want an invite, let me know.
my previous requests for kablomo ideas have yielded a “photos please” response more than anything else, so i will try to make it photo heavy, even if i don’t do anything pinterest related.
so, in two days kablpomo starts and i will hopefully be able to post every day. since i’m all over the state these days and trying to pack/move, it might be a matter of me doing a bunch of stuff on weekends and scheduling out posts. i know that’s really not a fair way of doing it, but when you think about it, there’s no rule in nanowrimo that says you have to write exactly 1667 words a day, as long as you get it all done by the end of november.
bring on kablpomo 2012!
i created a “kablpomo” board on pinterest. if you see anything you want me to try, pin it to that board. i invited liz, nikki, megan and my aunt meg to be able to pin to the board. if you want to be able to pin to it, let me know!
there’s a reason i was going to st. ben’s to run at 11 p.m.! the track was empty! now i don’t really care, but i still prefer a track to myself since i’m still a slow runner (compared to the athletes who run occasionally). but what i find oddly both encouraging and discouraging at the same time are the people who cheer me on while i run (not at an actual race). i had a couple instances where people i passed on the road or trail said “nice job!” you can do it!”
it’s weirdly both because on the one hand, hey, thanks for the unironic cheers! you’re awesome! on the other hand, i KNOW i can do. i’m only on mile 1.2 and i can go for 4 times that, maybe 5 times that if i wanted to and 7 times that if i were being chased! it’s also weirdly discouraging because i have to wonder if they would be saying the same thing to a gal who’s size 6 and running. i don’t know.
welp, i’m running in another 5k this weekend and the low is 27 degrees the night before, so it’ll be a chilly one. hopefully it’ll make it a fast one, too.
because sometimes instead of microblogging, i just want to blog.
here’s an interesting article about “dark social”, which has been around forever (well…in internet terms). even though people are screaming about social media being the new google and main contributor to site traffic, guess what? site traffic is still mostly from unknown sources, aka, you type it in, someone emails/IMs it to you, you had it bookmarked. otherwise known as, even though Facebook has been around for 8 years, we’re STILL reading emails. and IMing. and bookmarking stuff. which has been around pre-web2.0. WEB1.0 LIVES. not only am i a kindle luddite, i’m becoming an internet luddite *sigh*
kablpomo is a mere 14 days away!
1. i still don’t know what i’m doing. watch this space, i guess. it might end up being a huge mashup of a bunch of crap.
2. would it be easier for you, my lovely 3 viewers, if i changed my layout to one where there are snippets when you first visit this page, then you can click to expand? it would be easier with long posts, is my guess. you wouldn’t have to scrollscrollscroll to get to the next post…i like the current layout, but it isn’t very “no scroll” friendly.
after i ran the gay race, i went to eat dessert with my parents, where we talked about the gay race. my mom is torn on the issue, and my dad, well, we all know where my dad stands. my mom and i were discussing the lack of diversity at the race, and my dad pipes up: white guilt.
really? is white guilt an issue with gay rights? a lot of the people pro-gay-marriage are under 30 – do under 30s have white guilt yet? so i pondered.
i don’t think it’s a white guilt thing – i think it’s a matter of knowing gay people. in my dad’s generation, if you were gay, you didn’t come out. people my dad’s age don’t/didn’t KNOW anyone who was out as a gay person. as a younger person, you’re much more likely to know someone who’s gay or have someone close to you who’s gay. and when you know someone who’s gay, you begin to wonder why that person can’t have the opportunity to get married like you, just because they love someone who’s the same gender.
so, white guilt? naw. it’s in my backyard!
I shoved the bike in my trunk and took it home. After a new seat, raising of the seat and handlebars, and a good dose of WD40 (not to mention a frantic phone call to my brother when the handlebars seemed to have broken), I had a decent bicycle for a total investment of $35. It wasn’t the best bike out there, nor would it beat any land speed records, but for what I needed it to do, it was great.
After tooling around St. Joe a couple times, I had a sudden thought: I spend half my week a mere 50 miles from the best biking trail in the state. It’d been years since I’d biked the Root River Trail, but I knew the best time to do it was in the fall. So I did the next logical thing: I called my dad.
My dad’s bike very well could be the only bike a thief would pass over to steal mine, but it served the same purpose – it gets him around on two wheels. Growing up, he had been the one to drive us to the southeast corner of the state, back end of the vehicle filled with bikes, and set out from Fountain or Lanesboro for an afternoon of biking the trail. So when I called him and explained my idea, he was more than willing.
Now one point of the excursion, of course was to take a bike tour; the main point, was to see the leaves in all their splendor. Unfortunately, it’s been a pretty cruddy year for leaf exposition. The drought, along with the early spring, made for very odd leaf-viewing opportunities all across the state. As it was, we scheduled our jaunt the weekend before the normal peak viewing.
The day before, the wind howled all day; wind speeds were 2-30 mph, and I just groaned at the thought of all those leaves breaking their arborly restraints. But I hoped for the best. I borrowed a jacket from my aunt (highs in the upper 40s-low 50s) and zipped to our rendezvous point that morning.
And so we took off from Fountain, the trailhead (depending on who you believed), on a slightly windy, chilly Friday late morning. The sun was out, but it did little to cut the chill when we started pedaling the asphalt.
I remembered nothing about the trail since the time I’d been there before. I knew it had been a while since I’d biked it, but I thought I would remember something – no. But it was ok, because that made it an entirely new and lovely experience.
The trees were mostly bare, but there was an occasional pocket of color bursting from the brown, slumbering deciduous or the dark green pines. Leaves littered the trail from the previous day’s housecleaning, and they made a satisfying crunch under my bike tires. Once we came upon a section of trail that was entirely covered leaves with not a trace of asphalt peeking through – a yellow leaf puddle.
And all around us were the trees, devoid (mostly) of their dress. The crowded the trail, creating a tunnel for bikers. Once in a while, the branches overhung the traill, and I can only imagine how lovely it would’ve been with yelloworangered leaves overhead. And then some sections were spooky, with skeleton branches looming black overhead against the blue sky.
On the first leg, the trail hugged a hill so that one side of us opened to a great expanse of horizon as the trees allowed. We were able to see smoke rising from Preston, about four or five miles south. During those times when there was a considerable slope to my right, I made sure to keep my eyes on the road.
Fountain to Lanesboro is almost 12 miles, interrupted only by a few roads, a few farm fields, and a few old railroad bridges, one of which was a truss bridge (with a steel top on it). We passed a cattle farm and hear low moos and rustling of animals. A crop farm was nestled in a low valley, hillsides securing it in its place. Past relics of farm with pastures long gone to seed spotted the trail, driveways where machinery sneaking over the trail to the fields the only reminders. It seemed intrusive to coast past the fields, especially when it cut into a field with only the dirt driveways the get across, then I remembered this was a railroad long before the current farmers were even born.
And if there was a moment I forgot this was an old railroad, there was soon a bridge to remind me. The old ties still straddled rivers and roads and low spots, and I raised my rear on entrance to the bridges as the bike rumbled over the ties. Often we’d stop on the bridges, peering over the tall sides to what lay below.
The day slowly warmed, and by the time we were closer to Lanesboro than Fountain, the air had probably warmed a good five degrees – but I was still glad for the borrowed jacket and my stocking cap. It was deceptively decent out when we stood still on the bridges, but once back on the trail, the wind cut through the warmth.
A little warmer and a large chunk of the trail behind us, the sides of the trail rose as we biked through a slab of granite. Then our downhill descent became a plateau and then an upward climb. After 10 miles of descending into the valley, now it was time to work for our destination.
And work we did – a few more bends and one interruption* later, we rounded a hill and there was Lanesboro, its entrance a truss bridge over the river itself. We coasted over it and parked our bikes (sans locks) an hour and a half after starting. My legs were a little jellyish, but it didn’t last long. Soon we were regaling our journey to Paul H. at a local eatery.
The lack of leaves was a disappointment, but leaves do not an adventure make. The company and nostalgia alone, even though I remembered nothing of the trail, were worth the journey.
*We got stopped by a Minnesota Monthly photographer taking photos for next year’s trail edition. Look for a bright red jacket in the mag next fall!
saturday, nate and i signed the purchase agreement on our house at the same time the people who are buying it were in the house for their inspection. it wasn’t really a true inspection, just a second viewing, really. we actually had a home inspection done, and it took close to 3 hours. they were here for an hour. and they called delores while we were at her office, and they said everything looked good.
they’ve been pre-approved, so really now it’s just a waiting game until closing date, nov. 21. *sigh of relief*
that means it’s time to pack! wonderful. i really hate moving, but this will be good. nate’s excited to get out of the STC walmart. he’ll request a transfer (if one’s available) and then the week before thanksgiving he’ll take off, then start at the roch walmart on dec. 1 (hopefully).
i’m thinking of having a housecooling party! how fun would that be? i don’t know when i’d have it, but i’ll have to think about it.
omg, it’s really happening! woo!
fall=time to make apple pie. i wanted to make something different this time though, so i found a recipe for caramel apple pie on epicurious.
cut up the apple, tossed them in flour. then i pretty much made the equivalent of a simple syrup and added butter to it, which equalled caramel in their eyes. next time i will make my own caramel. then a streusel went on top.
the crust was make with lard and butter with a tablespoon of sugar tossed in, so NOMG.
despite the weird caramel, it was pretty darn good!