Thomas
Winston
PEACE
Monday, August 25, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Difference a year makes...
I posted this a year ago...
Thomas and Winston are 10 weeks old today. They are a joy to have around and would love to keep them, however I am still looking for a loving home to take both of them. I will not split them up now they take such good care of each other.
Thomas and Winston are a NOW a year and 10 weeks old....
Bill took these pictures, for some reason they like sleeping on the trash can...silly boys! They are by Handsome boys and are still taking good care of each other.
Thomas and Winston are 10 weeks old today. They are a joy to have around and would love to keep them, however I am still looking for a loving home to take both of them. I will not split them up now they take such good care of each other.
Thomas and Winston are a NOW a year and 10 weeks old....
Bill took these pictures, for some reason they like sleeping on the trash can...silly boys! They are by Handsome boys and are still taking good care of each other.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Weddings bring families together
My cousin Debbie got married today in Pella. It was kind of an unusual wedding, we were all suppose to wear western attire. Ok if that is what they want. I wore a lite blue cotton skirt with a peasant blouse and sandles. There were cowboy hats, string ties, jeans, skirts, boots if it was western it was there. What a fun time. It was a short and sweet wedding but what was fun was catching up the the cousins. We do not get together often enough and when we do it is just talk talk talk. It was a nice way to spend a saturday afternoon.
My Aunt Marlena on the Left and my mom on the right
Cousin Brenda, Kristi married to cousin Danny and me
Cousin Brenda, Cousin Debbie, me and cousin Danny
My Aunt Marlena on the Left and my mom on the right
Cousin Brenda, Kristi married to cousin Danny and me
Cousin Brenda, Cousin Debbie, me and cousin Danny
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Iowa's Midsummer Bike Dream...By Phillip Ross
I am notorious for clipping out articles that catch my attention and in the Readers Digest from I think 1984 there was an article called Iowa's Midsummer Bike Dream..By Phillip Ross. I found it very interesting so I am going to reprint it here for you. I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did...PEACE
Iowa's Midsummer Bike Dream...By Phillip Ross
I am leaning against my bike under a shade tree in front of a farmhouse in northeastern Iowa. It is late July 1983, the temperature is above 90, and I'm exhausted. My odometer says I've put in 70 miles of back roads since morning. My body says I'm hurting all over. The map says I have 35 miles to go.
A few feet away an endless stream of bikers is passing, 7000 in all. Watching them, I ask myself, What am I, a city boy who gave up two wheelers 30 years ago, doing in this thing called Ragbrai?
Ragbrai is an acronym for the Register's Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa, the largest event of it's kind in the world. It is a 500 mile week-long trek that began 11 years ago when two writers from the Des Moines Register set out on a lark to prove that their state wasn't flat. As they filed stories each night, other bikers joined them en route. In the years since , more than 50,000 people from all 50 states and as far away as Australia have come along for the ride, and many make it an annual pilgrimage.
Why am I among them? In New York City, I had asked friends who are native Iowans what is so special about Ragbrai. When one of them said, "Ragbrai is like seeing a Norman Rockwell painting come alive," I was hooked. I mailed my application to the Register, together with $12.50 to have my luggage trucked along the route. Then I laid out $300 for a bike and flew to the Hawkeye State...
Saturday, July 23rd, 1983
I get a ride from Des Moines west to Onawa, the staging p;oint for this year's ride. On the outskirts of this town of 3283, a sign greets up: You'll like us. We are friendly. Cars, buses and vans, all laden with bicycles mounted upside down, are converging on a campground spreading around the Ragbrai information booth.
Hundreds of bikers head out of town for the ritualistic dip of their rear wheels in the muddy Missouri River, the state's western border with Nebraska. I look for the first of the families I have arranged to stay with by writing to local chambers of commerce. My host is Chuck Orsini, co-chairman of the Onawa Ragbrai Committee. Chuck tells me that ha and none co-workers have spent 200 hours each planning for this day since Onawa was notified of its selection to be a host town nearly six months ago. (Communities vie to be part of a route that changes from year to year)
Sunday July 24th, 1983
By 5:30 a.m. hosts of bikers are standing in line for the two dollar pancakes and sausage breakfast that Chuck's crew has been preparing since two o'clock. I begin to pedal at six. There is a slight drizzle, welcome relief from the heat. As far as the eye can see, front or back, there are bikers. They are riding two and three abreast, moving like alien creatures into the early Dawn. As we pedal into hill country past mile after mile of corn and soybean fields, the only sounds are of birds chirping and gears shifting.
We have 62 miles to go this day to Harlan. With only a third of it gone, I am ready to concede that not all Iowa is flat. My thighs are aching from the hills. At Soldier, I stop for coffee and hear that among the bikers who will become legends on this tour are two Hawkeyes riding a tandem. The man in front, 32 year old Herbie Althaus, has no legs and pedals with artificial limbs. The man in back, 36 year old Pat McLuen, is blind. i have seen another much talked of biker, Henry Braafhart. he has gray hair, and the back of his T-shirt reads "82 and Good as New."
At the halfway point, the heavens open up. I haven't packed rain gear, and for ten miles struggle against head winds.I arrived soaking wet in Panama, a town of 300, where several hundred bikers have taken refuge in a grove of trees. Sitting in a car under one of these trees is John Dressel, his gravelly voice booming over a microphone "Welcome to Panama. Free beer and lemonade. Polish sausages one dollar." John is a retired farmer, and as I dry off at his side he tells me that he has bad feet and that his mike comes from being civil defense director, "which entails watching for tornado's and some other things that I cannot recall right now."
The rain stops. The hills continue. I see young racers riding one behind the other, wheels almost touching, to cut down the wind resistance. I see the dawdlers who are content to enjoy the scenery. There are the oddities: a group in war paint, a women carrying a dachshund in her rear basket, a few who are pedaling odd contraptions that do not look much like bicycles. The Oettings, Mike and Elena, are hauling there two young children in a buggy attached to the rear of Mike's bike. When I comment that pulling two kids 50 miles would not be my idea of a fun family vacation, he smiles. "Fun is not what we are looking for," he says "Adventure is."
Monday, July 25th, 1983
This is Ragbrai's shortest day, 46 miles to Guthrie Center, and it takes only a few miles to figure out why. Hills, hills, hills.
I chug along side a white haired women who tells me she's 73 and is slow pedaling up the hills but enjoys coming down them. I wish her well and pick up my pace. Coasting down another hill, I hear a loud "Whoopee!" I turn my head just in time to watch her whiz past.
Soon I spot a farmer sitting on his front lawn. "Nice to see you," I say. "You betcha" he answers. " How far to Kimballton?" I ask. " Two and a half hills up the road," he says.
Kimballton is a Danish town, lined with Danish and American flags. As in all the other villages en route, Kimballton's people have pulled out the stops for us bikers. The hot item on their menu is aebleskiver-sugary Danish pancakes- and there are long lines waiting to try them. A resident tells me about Kimballton's monthly dances, attended by people of all ages. I tell her I cannot imagine my two teenage daughters going to a dance with their father back in New York. "I guess things are a little different here,: she replies.
That afternoon, I ride for five miles atop along ridge under billowy clouds. The ridge is known as the "M and M" because water on it's western side flows to the Missouri and on it eastern side to the Mississippi. In every direction there are views of patchwork fields with farmhouses and barns, each separate, each complete, each producing. It is all quietly exhilarating, and I try to store up on it, as thought it were energy, for the hills.
I arrive in Guthrie Center exhausted. There are lines for food, cold showers and chemical toilets. I buy a soft drink from three 12 year old girls raising funds for the Valley reamers 4-H club.They say they are very excited about having us here. I ask Why. "Because Guthrie Center is usually boring," Julie Schoonover says. "Dull," Julie Donovan adds. "Dead, " chimes in Teresa McCool.
When I ask where else they'd like to live, they exchanger glances and say that, well, maybe Guthrie Center is as good a place as any.
Tuesday, July 26th, 1983
Up and at 'em at 5:30. Mist hangs low over a field of soybeans. But outside of town the road rises, and the early-morning sun is hitting the spokes of the wheels...flash,flash,flash... as hundreds of bikes ascend as if to heaven.
I share this breathtaking scene with two 23 year old women, Lori Salus and her friend Kate Lounsberry, both from Oregon. They rather matter of fact tell me that they began biking six weeks ago in Oregon, timed their trip to hook up with Ragbrai, and will continue on at week's end to Michigan.
The hills suddenly end and we are in the Iowas I have been eagerly looking forward to...flat as she goes. On the way to Ames, we hit a stretch of four lane highway where we are brushed by the draft from passing trucks. a jarring reminder of how much Ragbrai depends on the practically car-less secondary roads we mostly use.
A few miles onto country roads again, and I come to Bouton, population 130. I hitch my steed outside the air conditioned oasis of Friendship Hall of the Christ Lutheran Church. Inside there's a counter overflowing with homemade cakes, pies, sandwiches. I stoke up for for 70 cents.
Wednesday, July 27th, 1983
The less said about this day the better. I am up at five, and everything inside me rebels against biking 71 miles today. I pedal slowly out of town, cursing Ragbrai, Iowa and myself. Half a day later. I lie down to nap. Ants crawling over y legs motivate me to move on. I feel a surge of strength and pedal furiously for 15 miles. When I stop for lemonade, I am filled with self congratulations. Then I overhear several bikers talking about how easy the last stretch was because we had a tail wind. So much for my inner resources.
I am picked up at day's end by my friends the Coursons and Lynners. They take me to their lakeside cottage, were everyone has helped prepare a potluck dinner.
Thursday, July 28th, 1983
A welcome break. To get an overview of Ragbrai, I ride the "sag wagon" a van and trailer that moves up and down the road picking up bikes and bikers who have broken down. The volunteer driver is Kay Reasoner, a legal secretary from Des Moines.
We begin our ride at 9:30 a.m. and, within an hour, have our full complement of 16 riders. These include a family of four with bad colds, plus two teenagers with knee problems. All enter the van silently, with a sense of defeat that is not reduced by the good natured boos and shouts of "Never!" that the sag wagon draws when it passes bikers.
Kay fills me in on a nursing mother whose husband was riding with the baby. The two became separated, feeding time arrived, and bikers began passing word of the problem until the parents were reunited. A different kind of reunion story Kay tells me is about a "same time next year" couple who make the bike ride their annual tryst.
Friday, July 29th, 1983
This is the big one, 105 miles from Grundy Center to Manchester. I am up at five and raring to go. My sense of purpose lasts until I step outside. It is raining steadily. I begin riding with the enthusiasm of someone on the way to an IRS audit.
A mile or two out, the rain stops, and the day emerges cool and cloudy, ideal biking weather. Energy surges as I move through countryside aromatic with alfalfa and clover. I stop at Brandon's Koffee Kup Kafe, where the curtains are checkered red and while, and along one wall are photographs of every high school graduating class since 1920. Some of the pictures have only six faces. I order homemade muffins, bacon and eggs, all of which taste like they are supposed to.
By 11, I'm slowing down. I stop at the 68 mile marker for a rest. I know I must be getting tired because I check my odometer when I get off the bike and check it again when I leave, to see if, by some miracle, it has advanced.
As I leave one rest stop, I hear the shrill screams of hogs. A farmer is using an electric prod to move his fattened crop up a ramp into a big semi, which he tells me will deliver them to the slaughterhouse.
I am feeling grim for the next ten miles. But as I enter dairy country, where cows live linger, my outlook improves. Later, when my odometer reads 92, I swell with pride.
Coming down the homestretch, I begin to see this week as a metaphor. We are all different and all ultimately alone. Yet we are making the journey together, reflections off the same prism. I am getting maudlin about my fellow riders and the hospitable people along the way when suddenly I hit Manchester. It is 4:20, the odometer says 104, and I feel the warm glow I felt coming home from the Army.
Saturday, July 30th, 1983
It's a measly 59 miles to Dubuque and departure. At the food stands outside Dyersville's St. Francis Xavier Church, bikers are downing bratwurst and corn even though it's only 8:30a.m. A band is playing polka music, and several riders begin to dance.
In Dubuque, there is a breakup celebration overlooking the Mississippi. Front wheels are dipped in the river to symbolize the crossing of one of the few states bordered by two great rivers. Beer is consumed in great quantities, and a stand to set up for farewell speeches.
Flying east over Illinois, I look out he window, back at Iowa and the week that was. Images float past me, of doors being opened to strangers, of physical endurance, of a landscape that lies right out there, direct and guileless, like the people who inhabit it.
Before I left New York, I had wondered out loud to a friend what it was that I , who have experienced the excitement of both coasts, was looking for on the back roads of Iowa. "Perhaps," she said, "to see if the center holds" And now I am coming back to tell her that it does.
This was written almost 25 years ago. alot about RAGBRAI has changed yet alot has remained the same...Perhaps the center does still hold...PEACE
Iowa's Midsummer Bike Dream...By Phillip Ross
I am leaning against my bike under a shade tree in front of a farmhouse in northeastern Iowa. It is late July 1983, the temperature is above 90, and I'm exhausted. My odometer says I've put in 70 miles of back roads since morning. My body says I'm hurting all over. The map says I have 35 miles to go.
A few feet away an endless stream of bikers is passing, 7000 in all. Watching them, I ask myself, What am I, a city boy who gave up two wheelers 30 years ago, doing in this thing called Ragbrai?
Ragbrai is an acronym for the Register's Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa, the largest event of it's kind in the world. It is a 500 mile week-long trek that began 11 years ago when two writers from the Des Moines Register set out on a lark to prove that their state wasn't flat. As they filed stories each night, other bikers joined them en route. In the years since , more than 50,000 people from all 50 states and as far away as Australia have come along for the ride, and many make it an annual pilgrimage.
Why am I among them? In New York City, I had asked friends who are native Iowans what is so special about Ragbrai. When one of them said, "Ragbrai is like seeing a Norman Rockwell painting come alive," I was hooked. I mailed my application to the Register, together with $12.50 to have my luggage trucked along the route. Then I laid out $300 for a bike and flew to the Hawkeye State...
Saturday, July 23rd, 1983
I get a ride from Des Moines west to Onawa, the staging p;oint for this year's ride. On the outskirts of this town of 3283, a sign greets up: You'll like us. We are friendly. Cars, buses and vans, all laden with bicycles mounted upside down, are converging on a campground spreading around the Ragbrai information booth.
Hundreds of bikers head out of town for the ritualistic dip of their rear wheels in the muddy Missouri River, the state's western border with Nebraska. I look for the first of the families I have arranged to stay with by writing to local chambers of commerce. My host is Chuck Orsini, co-chairman of the Onawa Ragbrai Committee. Chuck tells me that ha and none co-workers have spent 200 hours each planning for this day since Onawa was notified of its selection to be a host town nearly six months ago. (Communities vie to be part of a route that changes from year to year)
Sunday July 24th, 1983
By 5:30 a.m. hosts of bikers are standing in line for the two dollar pancakes and sausage breakfast that Chuck's crew has been preparing since two o'clock. I begin to pedal at six. There is a slight drizzle, welcome relief from the heat. As far as the eye can see, front or back, there are bikers. They are riding two and three abreast, moving like alien creatures into the early Dawn. As we pedal into hill country past mile after mile of corn and soybean fields, the only sounds are of birds chirping and gears shifting.
We have 62 miles to go this day to Harlan. With only a third of it gone, I am ready to concede that not all Iowa is flat. My thighs are aching from the hills. At Soldier, I stop for coffee and hear that among the bikers who will become legends on this tour are two Hawkeyes riding a tandem. The man in front, 32 year old Herbie Althaus, has no legs and pedals with artificial limbs. The man in back, 36 year old Pat McLuen, is blind. i have seen another much talked of biker, Henry Braafhart. he has gray hair, and the back of his T-shirt reads "82 and Good as New."
At the halfway point, the heavens open up. I haven't packed rain gear, and for ten miles struggle against head winds.I arrived soaking wet in Panama, a town of 300, where several hundred bikers have taken refuge in a grove of trees. Sitting in a car under one of these trees is John Dressel, his gravelly voice booming over a microphone "Welcome to Panama. Free beer and lemonade. Polish sausages one dollar." John is a retired farmer, and as I dry off at his side he tells me that he has bad feet and that his mike comes from being civil defense director, "which entails watching for tornado's and some other things that I cannot recall right now."
The rain stops. The hills continue. I see young racers riding one behind the other, wheels almost touching, to cut down the wind resistance. I see the dawdlers who are content to enjoy the scenery. There are the oddities: a group in war paint, a women carrying a dachshund in her rear basket, a few who are pedaling odd contraptions that do not look much like bicycles. The Oettings, Mike and Elena, are hauling there two young children in a buggy attached to the rear of Mike's bike. When I comment that pulling two kids 50 miles would not be my idea of a fun family vacation, he smiles. "Fun is not what we are looking for," he says "Adventure is."
Monday, July 25th, 1983
This is Ragbrai's shortest day, 46 miles to Guthrie Center, and it takes only a few miles to figure out why. Hills, hills, hills.
I chug along side a white haired women who tells me she's 73 and is slow pedaling up the hills but enjoys coming down them. I wish her well and pick up my pace. Coasting down another hill, I hear a loud "Whoopee!" I turn my head just in time to watch her whiz past.
Soon I spot a farmer sitting on his front lawn. "Nice to see you," I say. "You betcha" he answers. " How far to Kimballton?" I ask. " Two and a half hills up the road," he says.
Kimballton is a Danish town, lined with Danish and American flags. As in all the other villages en route, Kimballton's people have pulled out the stops for us bikers. The hot item on their menu is aebleskiver-sugary Danish pancakes- and there are long lines waiting to try them. A resident tells me about Kimballton's monthly dances, attended by people of all ages. I tell her I cannot imagine my two teenage daughters going to a dance with their father back in New York. "I guess things are a little different here,: she replies.
That afternoon, I ride for five miles atop along ridge under billowy clouds. The ridge is known as the "M and M" because water on it's western side flows to the Missouri and on it eastern side to the Mississippi. In every direction there are views of patchwork fields with farmhouses and barns, each separate, each complete, each producing. It is all quietly exhilarating, and I try to store up on it, as thought it were energy, for the hills.
I arrive in Guthrie Center exhausted. There are lines for food, cold showers and chemical toilets. I buy a soft drink from three 12 year old girls raising funds for the Valley reamers 4-H club.They say they are very excited about having us here. I ask Why. "Because Guthrie Center is usually boring," Julie Schoonover says. "Dull," Julie Donovan adds. "Dead, " chimes in Teresa McCool.
When I ask where else they'd like to live, they exchanger glances and say that, well, maybe Guthrie Center is as good a place as any.
Tuesday, July 26th, 1983
Up and at 'em at 5:30. Mist hangs low over a field of soybeans. But outside of town the road rises, and the early-morning sun is hitting the spokes of the wheels...flash,flash,flash... as hundreds of bikes ascend as if to heaven.
I share this breathtaking scene with two 23 year old women, Lori Salus and her friend Kate Lounsberry, both from Oregon. They rather matter of fact tell me that they began biking six weeks ago in Oregon, timed their trip to hook up with Ragbrai, and will continue on at week's end to Michigan.
The hills suddenly end and we are in the Iowas I have been eagerly looking forward to...flat as she goes. On the way to Ames, we hit a stretch of four lane highway where we are brushed by the draft from passing trucks. a jarring reminder of how much Ragbrai depends on the practically car-less secondary roads we mostly use.
A few miles onto country roads again, and I come to Bouton, population 130. I hitch my steed outside the air conditioned oasis of Friendship Hall of the Christ Lutheran Church. Inside there's a counter overflowing with homemade cakes, pies, sandwiches. I stoke up for for 70 cents.
Wednesday, July 27th, 1983
The less said about this day the better. I am up at five, and everything inside me rebels against biking 71 miles today. I pedal slowly out of town, cursing Ragbrai, Iowa and myself. Half a day later. I lie down to nap. Ants crawling over y legs motivate me to move on. I feel a surge of strength and pedal furiously for 15 miles. When I stop for lemonade, I am filled with self congratulations. Then I overhear several bikers talking about how easy the last stretch was because we had a tail wind. So much for my inner resources.
I am picked up at day's end by my friends the Coursons and Lynners. They take me to their lakeside cottage, were everyone has helped prepare a potluck dinner.
Thursday, July 28th, 1983
A welcome break. To get an overview of Ragbrai, I ride the "sag wagon" a van and trailer that moves up and down the road picking up bikes and bikers who have broken down. The volunteer driver is Kay Reasoner, a legal secretary from Des Moines.
We begin our ride at 9:30 a.m. and, within an hour, have our full complement of 16 riders. These include a family of four with bad colds, plus two teenagers with knee problems. All enter the van silently, with a sense of defeat that is not reduced by the good natured boos and shouts of "Never!" that the sag wagon draws when it passes bikers.
Kay fills me in on a nursing mother whose husband was riding with the baby. The two became separated, feeding time arrived, and bikers began passing word of the problem until the parents were reunited. A different kind of reunion story Kay tells me is about a "same time next year" couple who make the bike ride their annual tryst.
Friday, July 29th, 1983
This is the big one, 105 miles from Grundy Center to Manchester. I am up at five and raring to go. My sense of purpose lasts until I step outside. It is raining steadily. I begin riding with the enthusiasm of someone on the way to an IRS audit.
A mile or two out, the rain stops, and the day emerges cool and cloudy, ideal biking weather. Energy surges as I move through countryside aromatic with alfalfa and clover. I stop at Brandon's Koffee Kup Kafe, where the curtains are checkered red and while, and along one wall are photographs of every high school graduating class since 1920. Some of the pictures have only six faces. I order homemade muffins, bacon and eggs, all of which taste like they are supposed to.
By 11, I'm slowing down. I stop at the 68 mile marker for a rest. I know I must be getting tired because I check my odometer when I get off the bike and check it again when I leave, to see if, by some miracle, it has advanced.
As I leave one rest stop, I hear the shrill screams of hogs. A farmer is using an electric prod to move his fattened crop up a ramp into a big semi, which he tells me will deliver them to the slaughterhouse.
I am feeling grim for the next ten miles. But as I enter dairy country, where cows live linger, my outlook improves. Later, when my odometer reads 92, I swell with pride.
Coming down the homestretch, I begin to see this week as a metaphor. We are all different and all ultimately alone. Yet we are making the journey together, reflections off the same prism. I am getting maudlin about my fellow riders and the hospitable people along the way when suddenly I hit Manchester. It is 4:20, the odometer says 104, and I feel the warm glow I felt coming home from the Army.
Saturday, July 30th, 1983
It's a measly 59 miles to Dubuque and departure. At the food stands outside Dyersville's St. Francis Xavier Church, bikers are downing bratwurst and corn even though it's only 8:30a.m. A band is playing polka music, and several riders begin to dance.
In Dubuque, there is a breakup celebration overlooking the Mississippi. Front wheels are dipped in the river to symbolize the crossing of one of the few states bordered by two great rivers. Beer is consumed in great quantities, and a stand to set up for farewell speeches.
Flying east over Illinois, I look out he window, back at Iowa and the week that was. Images float past me, of doors being opened to strangers, of physical endurance, of a landscape that lies right out there, direct and guileless, like the people who inhabit it.
Before I left New York, I had wondered out loud to a friend what it was that I , who have experienced the excitement of both coasts, was looking for on the back roads of Iowa. "Perhaps," she said, "to see if the center holds" And now I am coming back to tell her that it does.
This was written almost 25 years ago. alot about RAGBRAI has changed yet alot has remained the same...Perhaps the center does still hold...PEACE
Saturday, March 29, 2008
The Image they really want to send...
I have certain sites on the internet that i go to, to keep up with what is going on. One of the sites is the Punk Rock Racing site. They had pictures from their training in Indiana. One caught my eye.
-Image from Punk Rock Cycling site
Ok I looked at the bottle trying to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was a New fangled water bottle or pop bottle, I just couldnt buy that. It looks like a wine bottle to me. If that was the only thing it wouldnt be so bad however if you look closer she is driving.
Every bikers worst nightmare are drunk drivers. Here you have a "biker" who is drinking while driving. Is that the kind of image the Punk Rockers want to send. I think that people forget that there are very easily influenced children, teenagers and adults out there who think wow if it is ok for them, then I can do it to.
If you want to be in the public eye think before you do, there are people watching.
These are my own opinions not my husbands or anyones elses if you dont like them come to me, as a biker I am entitled to my opinion when it comes to biker image and safety.
PEACE
-Image from Punk Rock Cycling site
Ok I looked at the bottle trying to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was a New fangled water bottle or pop bottle, I just couldnt buy that. It looks like a wine bottle to me. If that was the only thing it wouldnt be so bad however if you look closer she is driving.
Every bikers worst nightmare are drunk drivers. Here you have a "biker" who is drinking while driving. Is that the kind of image the Punk Rockers want to send. I think that people forget that there are very easily influenced children, teenagers and adults out there who think wow if it is ok for them, then I can do it to.
If you want to be in the public eye think before you do, there are people watching.
These are my own opinions not my husbands or anyones elses if you dont like them come to me, as a biker I am entitled to my opinion when it comes to biker image and safety.
PEACE
Friday, March 14, 2008
What a nice day!
What a great day to take off. I am trying to use up my 2007 vacation and decided to take today off. I know that it is early in the season but I was itching to get some yard work done. So I proceeded outside with my clippers and trimmed my grasses. I didnt get this done last fall. So I did some clipping, drug the brush to the burn pile and found a couple of rakes that we had use last fall. We never did get them put away because the next day the snow started. I learned a lesson with one of these rakes last fall. Before I tell you the story I will see if you can figure out which one I used.
Can you tell? See if this helps...
Lesson learned...do NOT use a plastic rake when taking care of a burning fire...It will melt. I thought that i would help by adding some more leaves to the fire but you have to spread out the existing ashes first...yah right. I just started to laugh...Bill wanted to know what was so funny, I tried to hide it from him, however it is hard to hide a rake. He basically rolled his eyes , shook his head then started to laugh. What else could he do. I think that I will just leave it by the fire pit as a conversation piece...
It was a nice day today...hope that you could enjoy it...
PEACE!
Can you tell? See if this helps...
Lesson learned...do NOT use a plastic rake when taking care of a burning fire...It will melt. I thought that i would help by adding some more leaves to the fire but you have to spread out the existing ashes first...yah right. I just started to laugh...Bill wanted to know what was so funny, I tried to hide it from him, however it is hard to hide a rake. He basically rolled his eyes , shook his head then started to laugh. What else could he do. I think that I will just leave it by the fire pit as a conversation piece...
It was a nice day today...hope that you could enjoy it...
PEACE!
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Buying Condoms.
It has been a long time since I have had to go and buy some condoms. Way back then they were just called "Trojans" came in one size and style. My roommates and I would laugh over the colored ones.
The other day I went on a condom buying trip. I just stood staring at the selection that is now available.
You can get ribbed, bumped, sensitive, Extra Large-isnt that what every male says they need. You can get them in different lengths, this might cause an issue if you dont know exactly how LONG your partner is, does this mean you have to buy a multi pack in length and size...hmmm let me see you look like a std medium...They have warming condons for those times you cannot get her warmed up enough yourself. There are lubed, non lubed and my favorite flavored. Who in their right mind wants to suck on a piece of latex. I dont care if it is tropical banana. They have scented so that you dont smell the condom..Isnt that what most high school and college boys want, for OTHER high school and college boys to be able to tell that yes you did get lucky. You can get Extra Strength what you have not had sex in such a long time you are afraid you will blow the top off. You can even get Pleasure shaped condoms. They look like something went really wrong at the condom factory. I finally selected a variety pack, sensitive, ribbed, flavored and normal. I would hate to give the person only one choice. If you need a good laugh go and check out the condom aisle, you just might learn something.
PEACE.
The other day I went on a condom buying trip. I just stood staring at the selection that is now available.
You can get ribbed, bumped, sensitive, Extra Large-isnt that what every male says they need. You can get them in different lengths, this might cause an issue if you dont know exactly how LONG your partner is, does this mean you have to buy a multi pack in length and size...hmmm let me see you look like a std medium...They have warming condons for those times you cannot get her warmed up enough yourself. There are lubed, non lubed and my favorite flavored. Who in their right mind wants to suck on a piece of latex. I dont care if it is tropical banana. They have scented so that you dont smell the condom..Isnt that what most high school and college boys want, for OTHER high school and college boys to be able to tell that yes you did get lucky. You can get Extra Strength what you have not had sex in such a long time you are afraid you will blow the top off. You can even get Pleasure shaped condoms. They look like something went really wrong at the condom factory. I finally selected a variety pack, sensitive, ribbed, flavored and normal. I would hate to give the person only one choice. If you need a good laugh go and check out the condom aisle, you just might learn something.
PEACE.
Friday, February 29, 2008
In Memory
1990 - 2008
My Charlie passed away today, he was 17 years old. I found him when I got home from work. I had a feeling that something was wrong. It looks like he may of had a heart attack. He and I had a good 17 years together. There were good times and bad times but we made it through. There was many a time he was my comfort. I think God was waiting to take Charlie, He had to make sure that there was a replacement or two.
Godspeed Charlie, I will miss you, Thank you for all you did for me. I love you!
Rainbow Bridge
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....
Author unknown...
peace
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Some of my favorite things,
Wow it has almost been a month since I have posted. I need to catch up.I thought that I would mention some of my favorite thing or products that I use.
Facial Products: Elemis I first learned about Elemis on one of our cruises. I have always taken care of my skin however it keeps changing with the weather and age. I have very rosy skin which tends to be sensitive. I use Chamomile Cleanser, with the day and night moisturising cream. They are a little pricey However my thinking on skin care is I only have one skin I need to take care of it.
Lotions: I have tried all kinds of lotions, In the summer I have to use a light lotion and in the winter more of a body butter. I have very itchy skin and swimming and exercising does not help. I have found a great product that seems to make my skin soft and non itchy. Before I tell you the product I will say I found it on sale and decided to give it a try. It is Avalon Organic Baby products ok you can stop laughing hysterically. I was reading the label and it said to protect the skin making is smooth and soft. Well I want smooth soft skin. So I bought the lotion and tear free shampoo and body wash. Really like the stuff. I have replaced my Dove soap with this. my skin feels smooth and soft just like a babys butt...ok maybe not quite that soft. If you want to pamper yourself try Watkins Lemon cream shea butter this butter has a wonderful lemon smell. You can find it at Walmart at least in Newton.
ToothPaste: Tom's of Maine I use the orange-mango.
Shampoo: I tend to rotate my shampoos. I do not have a favorite which seems kind of strange. I have wavy/curly hair which tends to be dry so I look for a moisturising shampoo. Sometimes I will heat up a little bit of olive oil, massage it into my hair and scalp let it soak in for about 1/2 hour. Then shampoo it out. This leaves the hair nice and soft.
Favorite Scent: Lavander and Rosmary,I grow both of these. They say if you take a drop or two of Lavander oil ,add water then spritz your sheets and pillows you will get a better nights sleep. I am planning on trying this once I find some pure lavander.
Well that is all for now I hope that you enjoyed seeing some of my favorite things.
PEACE
Facial Products: Elemis I first learned about Elemis on one of our cruises. I have always taken care of my skin however it keeps changing with the weather and age. I have very rosy skin which tends to be sensitive. I use Chamomile Cleanser, with the day and night moisturising cream. They are a little pricey However my thinking on skin care is I only have one skin I need to take care of it.
Lotions: I have tried all kinds of lotions, In the summer I have to use a light lotion and in the winter more of a body butter. I have very itchy skin and swimming and exercising does not help. I have found a great product that seems to make my skin soft and non itchy. Before I tell you the product I will say I found it on sale and decided to give it a try. It is Avalon Organic Baby products ok you can stop laughing hysterically. I was reading the label and it said to protect the skin making is smooth and soft. Well I want smooth soft skin. So I bought the lotion and tear free shampoo and body wash. Really like the stuff. I have replaced my Dove soap with this. my skin feels smooth and soft just like a babys butt...ok maybe not quite that soft. If you want to pamper yourself try Watkins Lemon cream shea butter this butter has a wonderful lemon smell. You can find it at Walmart at least in Newton.
ToothPaste: Tom's of Maine I use the orange-mango.
Shampoo: I tend to rotate my shampoos. I do not have a favorite which seems kind of strange. I have wavy/curly hair which tends to be dry so I look for a moisturising shampoo. Sometimes I will heat up a little bit of olive oil, massage it into my hair and scalp let it soak in for about 1/2 hour. Then shampoo it out. This leaves the hair nice and soft.
Favorite Scent: Lavander and Rosmary,I grow both of these. They say if you take a drop or two of Lavander oil ,add water then spritz your sheets and pillows you will get a better nights sleep. I am planning on trying this once I find some pure lavander.
Well that is all for now I hope that you enjoyed seeing some of my favorite things.
PEACE
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Brrrr
Yep BRRRR was yesterday, nice day for riding. My friend Julie and I rode together. As usual the wind was in our face on the way to Rippey and at our backs on the way to Perry. After the ride we went and got a nice big bowl of chili and Julie won a crocheted hat. Kyle, Julie's husband, asked if she really "won" after taking a look at the hat. What do men know about style. Julie's bike had an issue it would shift from the big gear in front to the granny gear, missing the middle gear, so we made a stop at Irwin's on the way home and dropped off both bikes. Julie's to get a tune up and mine so Bill could take it home. I needed to go bra shopping and didn't want it sitting in the parking lot. Now Bra shopping is a whole different story all together.
It was a great Saturday, very fun and actually relaxing. The pic below was taken by the Des Moines Register.
L to R
Kyle S, Taylor W, Julie G, Julie S, and Troy T. Waiting for the Brr Ride to start.
It was a great Saturday, very fun and actually relaxing. The pic below was taken by the Des Moines Register.
L to R
Kyle S, Taylor W, Julie G, Julie S, and Troy T. Waiting for the Brr Ride to start.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Time for a Change
I have decided this year to change the blog up a bit. It will still be what is going on in Bill and my life however I am going to throw in stuff that I feel is important to live everyday the best that I can. I am an avid reader, I am always looking for interesting articles to read. I do not follow the mainstream, I look for unique.
Here are a few things that I believe when it comes to well being.
1. There is a time for holistic medicine and a time for western medicine.
2. Accupuncture works.
3. Massages are a preventive medicine
4. Exercising is a great thing
5. You need to take care of your skin. Moisturize, moisturize, moisturize.
6. Water is God's liquor. Drink alot of it.
7. pop and/or soda is deadly stop drinking it.
8. read food labels
9. naps are good so is laughing.
10. Dont always follow the crowd, you are missing so much by not doing your own thing.
I hope that you enjoy the change.
PEACE
Here are a few things that I believe when it comes to well being.
1. There is a time for holistic medicine and a time for western medicine.
2. Accupuncture works.
3. Massages are a preventive medicine
4. Exercising is a great thing
5. You need to take care of your skin. Moisturize, moisturize, moisturize.
6. Water is God's liquor. Drink alot of it.
7. pop and/or soda is deadly stop drinking it.
8. read food labels
9. naps are good so is laughing.
10. Dont always follow the crowd, you are missing so much by not doing your own thing.
I hope that you enjoy the change.
PEACE
Sunday, January 13, 2008
A True Hero
To my way of thinking there are very few true heros left today and last week a very modest true hero passed away at the age of 88. Sir Edmund Hillary. The first man to ever climb Everest. What makes Sir Hillary a hero is not that he was the first man to climb Everest it was what he did after. He tried to help third world countries better themselves. Napal being one of his favorites. Actually there is not a picture of him on top of Everest because he was behind the camera not in front of it. There are not many selfless "heros" left. Sir Edmund Hillary was one of them.
Duffy cartoon
PEACE
Duffy cartoon
PEACE
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Looking Back and Ahead
Happy New Year everyone. It is hard to believe that 2007 is almost finished. It is true what they say that time seems to go faster as you get older, There are many times I want to say "Just Slow Down".
2007 brought some new feline companions to us. We found homes for 4 of them, lets just say that the rest keep us warm at night.
I rode 1/2 of the Brrr ride, it was very cold that day.
March brought the Newton Community Theater production of No No Nannette, in which I played the grumpy maid. No type casting there.
I did my first Triathlon in August, as did my good friend Julie S. We both finished and lived to tell about it. Acually the tri bug has bitten us both. If you want to follow our training for 2008 please go to our blog
www.2julesandabike.blogspot.com, JS and I will be keeping a journal of how our training is going.
This fall I went to a couple of cycle cross races, I really enjoyed watching them and hope to try one this next year.
2008 is going to be a life change for me, I need to take better care of me. I have been letting this part of my life get pushed to the back. Not anymore. I am going to eat better, exercise more, even learn to meditate if that what it takes. I am going to simplify me. It sounds simple however I know it will be a struggle. Not much in life worth doing is not a struggle.
I hope that your 2007 was productive and that your 2008 is all that you wish for.
PEACE.
2007 brought some new feline companions to us. We found homes for 4 of them, lets just say that the rest keep us warm at night.
I rode 1/2 of the Brrr ride, it was very cold that day.
March brought the Newton Community Theater production of No No Nannette, in which I played the grumpy maid. No type casting there.
I did my first Triathlon in August, as did my good friend Julie S. We both finished and lived to tell about it. Acually the tri bug has bitten us both. If you want to follow our training for 2008 please go to our blog
www.2julesandabike.blogspot.com, JS and I will be keeping a journal of how our training is going.
This fall I went to a couple of cycle cross races, I really enjoyed watching them and hope to try one this next year.
2008 is going to be a life change for me, I need to take better care of me. I have been letting this part of my life get pushed to the back. Not anymore. I am going to eat better, exercise more, even learn to meditate if that what it takes. I am going to simplify me. It sounds simple however I know it will be a struggle. Not much in life worth doing is not a struggle.
I hope that your 2007 was productive and that your 2008 is all that you wish for.
PEACE.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
What is wrong with this picture...?
Oh the joys of having young cats. A few years ago I bought Bill a Palm Christmas Tree, well now you can see why we cannot have a real one. It would not last a day. I was wanting to hang stockings across the door however I hung one up and had to pull Winston off of the screen because he wanted to play with it. So the Palm Christmas Tree is all the decorations we have in the house. I hope that it can last until after Christmas! If you will notice in the pictures there is a wine holder full of wine. Bill's parents gave me a case of different wines for Christmas. Bless their hearts they know what it takes to put up with Bill and all of the cats. :) Peace!
Friday, November 16, 2007
The fix is on
There is a neat web site called www.alliedautowatch.com If you have allied insurance and a vehicle getting fixed. You put in your phone number and you can watch the progress of your vehicles repair. Scooter is suppose to be finished on Monday. I am going to be afraid to drive him, he will looks so nice.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Putting Up Christmas Lights
Bill and I put up Christmas Lights Sunday and we had a little Help. Oliver climbed up the ladder and got stuck on the dormer so Bill had to help him down.
The Deer Lost
Bill had a little run in with a deer. The poor deer lost however the car was a close second. Scooter goes in Wed to get fixed.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Art By Tommy Original
I am the proud owner of an original Art By Tommy. I even got to watch him work for a little bit until his bodyguard showed up and scared me away.
Below is a photo of Tommy hard at work or at least he was until he realized that I was watching.
I just had time to snap the next picture as his friend and bodyguard Winston showed up. I didnt want to make them mad so I left.
Ah the final masterpiece an Art By Tommy Original on a semi tightly rolled paper medium. I heard that the paper is very expensive. I will treasure forever.
PEACE
Below is a photo of Tommy hard at work or at least he was until he realized that I was watching.
I just had time to snap the next picture as his friend and bodyguard Winston showed up. I didnt want to make them mad so I left.
Ah the final masterpiece an Art By Tommy Original on a semi tightly rolled paper medium. I heard that the paper is very expensive. I will treasure forever.
PEACE
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