AUGUST 31 - Oh Woe, Alas, Blue Moon, and Sleepovers

What I thought ended well Wednesday didn't end well at all. When we got up Thursday morning, Breehy was slouched in her corner with her front tire almost surrounding the rim. Seems the air Steve pumped into it somehow escaped. I may have ridden over another big fat nail on my way home from his place, who knows.

Now I have a Self-Sealing tube, and that sucker better work. I don't mind not riding when I don't want to ride, but I hate not riding when I can't. I'm not saying I would be riding today - I just like to have the choice. Now we just have to wait until somebody offers to install it, and we'll off adventuring again.

 Howard had to take another day of work yesterday, as his back is really hurting. He can do a wee bit of something, then has to sit/lie down for a spell. I sure hope relaxing this long weekend will help that muscle heal, as these days off with no pay aren't any fun. Well, the days may be fun, but the no pay part isn't.

I snuck off for half an hour and picked another tub of blackberries, and now they are some sort of cross between jam and stewed berries, cooling off a bit so I can put them in plastic tubs and freeze them for the long hard berry-less winter.

Meanwhile - tonight is very special. We have a Blue Moon, which is a very rare happening, as in Once in a Blue Moon, Howard may bring me flowers, or Once in a Blue Moon he may bring me breakfast in bed. Actually, I think he did the former once, and the latter never, but I'm still hoping. If not today, then in 2015.

And that's not the only reason tonight is very special. We have two little boys sleep-overing with us -

Tanner

Tanner is very interested in Teletoon Retro, watching all the cartoons his daddy and uncles watched when they were little boys.

Dominik

I don't think Dominik is having much fun yet though, as he's been asleep since I got home from the store. I guess he finds life at the old folks' home pretty boring.

I see the moon and the moon sees me

The moon sees someone I'd love to see

God bless the moon and God bless me

And God bless the someone I'd love to see -

for

Gabriel, Arianna and Kayla

AUGUST 29 - Poor Breehy, Strange Plants, and All's Well That Ends Well

Day Off Number 1 - and even though I didn't really feel like going for a long bike ride, I sat in front of the computer to find a destination interesting enough to motivate me. It seems the really fun places to go now are way way far away, but  I did find a park and Community Garden not very far away at all, within 5 km, so decided to do that short trip, come back home, and head to Walmart for some yummy dead beast for dinner.

So, all set. Berry tub (just in case) in bike basket, phone, camera - all the usual stuff - and away we go. Until we reach the sidewalk, and I decide for some reason, to feel Breehy's front tire. Oh. Flattish. I think Howard's words last week jinxed me. So back to the house with a change of plans - a walk to Zellers or Canadian Tire to find a bike pump and a patch kit. I switched the berry tub for my little Salt Beef Pail since there are tons of blackberry bushes between here and there, and off we went.

Since I found a bike pump at Zellers, I didn't bother going to CT, although I probably should have, to buy a Patch Kit. Instead, I meandered down the street, checking out strip malls on the way home. I did find Sabzi Mandi, a really nice market/grocery store.

They have a great selection of fruit and veggies at very good prices, a lot of East Indian food, a meat counter, and some kitchen stuff - plus Strawberry Custard Powder, and that was well worth the detour.  One of my Scotland memories is Strawberry custard, and I haven't been able to find any at all in this great country.  I think I'll be a sort-of regular customer in the future. When I travel with Georgia.

Walking down King George Boulevard, I pass a business with a landscaped edging and saw this plant -

I would think it's a Viagra Plant, but I'm not sure. If my youngest son, the landscaper, ever reads my blog, he'll probably tell me the Latin name for it.

I have heard so many good things about Tim Horton's new Panini sandwiches, I thought I'd drop in on my way home, as it was just after noon and my tummy was rumbling. However when my turn came to order, I find out this particular location doesn't offer the paninis, so I just said 'Okay, thanks,' and left. I wasn't even tempted by a Donut or a Muffin.  Although right now I wish I had brought home a dozen. Of each.

So then it was Blackberry picking time. About the only place I'm not afraid of spiders is in a blackberry patch, although I don't like it when my face gets webbed with a guy wire of spider thread - I always imagine the hugest spider in the pack just jack-knifing onto my head or my shoulder. It usually results in me doing a lively version of an electric shock dance as I try to shake off a potential visitor. I managed to get some extra juicy berries from farther in the bushes than usual, as I was wearing a sweater that protected my arms from the terribly prickly stems, although my fingers and legs didn't do so well. It is a very dangerous hobby.

I don't know why hundreds of people aren't out picking these berries. A Chinese couple stopped and asked me what the berries were good for, and stupidly enough I told them. Oh well, there seem to be enough to share, as they are growing wild all over the place.

When I got home, a few cups of blackberries richer, I pumped up that front tire - but the air wouldn't stay in. Either that, or I only thought I was pumping up the tire, and was actually just swooshing air into the .... well, air. So I booked an appointment with my local neighbourhood bike tire specialist, Steve, who said he'd fix it for me after work.

However, when I went to Steve's 'after work' he was draped on the couch like a squirt of liquid cheese on a cracker (which happens to be one of my favourite lines from that old classic THE CLOTHESLINE WARS.) This pose let me know how tuckered out he was from his day, so I was just going to let him be, and maybe ask Howard to fix the tire on the weekend, which would be a very iffy possibility. However, Steve did came down later in the evening. He decided it would be easier to do the job at his place,  so he used the little pump I bought at Zellers (which definitely wasn't the Cadillac of Pumps) to pump up the tire enough to get him home. I was a bit disappointed the picture I took of him riding up the road on my pretty pink bike holding the can of beer his daddy gave him didn't come out. Bummer. You'll just have to imagine it.

Anyway, I found out he had never changed a tire before. His reasoning? He hardly ever had a flat tire, and besides, he had two older brothers. He did do a good job though, and even fixed my brakes. And there were no extra pieces lying around when he was done. So Kudos to Steve. Breehy says 'Thankya.'

AUGUST 27 - Just a Part of Growing Up .... Or Getting Old ....

My usual Monday post would begin something like grumble grumble moan moan regarding work and transit. However, today I didn't get to go to work. I got to go to ER with hubby instead. 

He's been having pains through his upper back for the past few days, and I guess he figured 5:30 in the morning was as good a time as any to see a doctor. Since he didn't want to drive (or pay for parking), or go on bus, we walked. Yes. We walked. He was pretty sure he wasn't having a heart attack - turns out he was right.

Before we left, I asked him if he had trouble breathing. He said no.

I asked him if felt dizzy or nauseous. He said no.

I asked him if he felt pain in his arm or shoulder or neck or jaw. He said no.

So we went. He was triaged, and RAZed (at the Rapid Assessment Zone.) He had blood work and chest xrays, and then he got to see a very nice doctor.

The doctor asked him if he had trouble breathing. He said no.

He asked him if felt dizzy or nauseous. He said no.

He asked him if he felt pain in his arm or shoulder or neck or jaw. He said no.

(and I only make $12 an hour)

Then the doctor said his blood work was fine, his x-ray was fine, and started thumping around his back, where he found the trapezoid muscle was what was causing the discomfort. So after a couple of Tylenol (which made him nauseous), a warning not to lift anything heavy, and an order to see Dr Chao regarding his high blood pressure, he was allowed to go home. 

Today reminded me of all the times last year I accompanied him to doctor visits, xrays, MRI's, etc when he had a bad wrist. This was a blog I wrote on a different site in February of 2011. Seems some things never change.

Scenario 1

A midnight trip to the hospital, the man driving even though half asleep, the wife almost crumpled in a breathless (literally) heap on the floor mat below the passenger seat. Half a block from the emergency doors, he slows down enough for her to open the door and do a jump and roll, and as he turns around and heads back to his warm comfy wife-less bed, she staggers and stumbles to the emergency room entrance, where the kind doctors and nurses spend a night bringing her back to life.

A phone call home the next morning at 6am.

"Can you come pick me up?"

"Why, where are you?"

You'd almost think I made this stuff up, wouldn't you?

Scenario 2

A man with a sore wrist, perfectly healthy in all other ways, has to visit his doctor so another report can be sent to WorkSafe, therefore insuring another cheque in two weeks time. His poor wife, who is suffering with a tremendously hurtful cold and is wheezing with asthma thinks that maybe she will stay home while he's gone, as she aches all over and can hardly move without her inhaler stuck in her gob - however, as she sees a huge  S&P coming on (Sulk and Pout), she manages to half-crawl to the truck and accompany him to the doctor's office, an adventure he never wants to pursue alone.

When the doctor asks him how limited he was in the use of his arm, Howard tells him he can't take a pan out of the oven, or a pot off the stove, with his right wrist. So now the doctor thinks I'm making him do all the cooking, since he's home all the time. Thanks a lot. He didn't even give me credit for being a sous-chef and doing all the crappy stuff like peeling onions.

The next step for him is to see a Sports Injury Doctor, and he will probably have to have an MRI or a CT scan to see what's going on inside his skin. And I am worried that he will want me to crawl into that machine with him....

Whoever said women are the weaker sex was obviously male. At least I can take a pan of chicken legs out of the oven.

I'm happy to say his wrist got better after a corticosteroid injection, and as long as he doesn't go crawling around on his hands and knees, it'll probably stay better. I guess I'd better stick around into his second childhood to make sure he doesn't do that. 

I think he's feeling better now though - he's off for beer. 

AUGUST - In a Jam, and My Tiny Dancer

We don't have a freezer yet, just a top part of the fridge, and that gets pretty full when I make bread and ice-cubes. Now it seems when I go out, I bring back some more delicious blackberries, and there's a limit to how many I can freeze - so yesterday's batch ended up in a pot for jam.

Now, I used to make tons of jam - back home it was Strawberry,  Partridgeberry, and Bakeapple, if I was lucky enough to get any. When we moved here, I started in seriously with my big pot and my never-ending supply of Certo. Peach, Plum, Strawberry, Apricot, all sealed in pretty little Mason jars with pretty little labels. How pretty they all looked, sparkling their jewel-tones on the counter.

When I brought home some yellow plums a couple of weeks ago, I planned to stew them so they would be a most delicious ice-cream topping. However, when they looked all done stew-wise, I tasted them and they were so tart I almost swallowed my face. So I added more sugar - and cooked it longer. Still bitter. More sugar. More cooking. And I ended up with jam, which was very good, which meant it didn't last long, as each morning it had a pre-date with my toast.

This time, the blackberries were going to be jam. Blackberries have a lot of pectin, plus jam has a way of 'dissipating' (Howard's word, will explain later) so I needed Certo neither for the setting of it nor the keeping the mould away from it. So I just added a wee drop of water and a cup of sugar and turned the stove on low. Bubble, bubble, etcetera. 

After a little while, it looked like jam, so I turned off the top and tasted it. Ew. Bitter. More sugar. Same thing. Tasted again. Ew. Bitter. More sugar. Then I let it simmer while I went tapping - and guess what? A tad overcooked. Thanks, smoke alarm. It wasn't burned though, just a bit thick. I poured (scraped?) it into a  container and put it in the fridge to cool, and that's where it stayed until this morning's toast was ready.

Hm. I've never had a slice of jam with my toast before. So after work, I was determined to fix this. Into the pot again. I thought about diluting it with Apple Juice, but remembered how high the pectin quotient of that would be. The only other liquids in my fridge were milk (nope), Bacardi Lemonade Spritzer (no way), Beer (nuh-uh) and Ginger Ale. So in went some Ginger Ale, and it became a bit sloppy and more jam-like. I'm hoping tomorrow morning I'll have some nice spreadable jam. We'll see.

Yesterday, Lizzie found my wind-up Snow Globe, and used the music for her interpretive dance. She's a lot sweeter than any jam I've ever made.

As to the 'dissipating' word? We had left-over Macaroni and Cheese tonight. Last night, it seemed to be very cheesy, but tonight Howard wanted extra cheese in it. He said the cheese dissipates. I know mayo tends to dissipate in left-over potato salad, but cheese? Can anyone tell me where it goes?

AUGUST 25 - Just a Few Words, But An Amazing (?) Ending

I forgot to mention yesterday, that while I was gliding ladylike downhill on the way home from New Westminster, an insect flew into my mouth. It was either a matter of coughing it out and seeing what it was, which was would be pretty gross, or just swallowing it, which is what I did. I hope it wasn't a dragonfly, as I really like dragonflies.

Today was pretty easy. I rode to Walmart in the morning when I realized, just in time, that what I thought was a free pack of laundry detergent that was dropped off at my door was actually dishwasher machine soap. I do like clean clothes, but not squeaky clean ones that shine when I wear them. Anyway, I took a big butter tub (empty) with me, and I filled it up with blackberries on the way home. These berries are now sitting in the fridge, after they simmered on the stove top with a whole bunch of sugar until they almost burned. Sometimes I appreciate the smoke alarm. Sometimes I don't, especially when it is a constant companion to my morning coffee and toast.

I made a pancake brunch for Chris, Lizzie and me, and a picnic of Peanut Butter sandwiches, Banana/Chocolate Chip Muffins and Peppermint KitKat bars, plus pop of course (Ginger Ale) for Chris and me. Lizzie and her mom  had gone on a search for New York Fries, and although they were gone almost long enough for them to actually get Fries in New York, they found some at Guildford Mall. The sun proved too hot for an enjoyable playground time with Chris, so we came home and hunkered down with scissors, glue, pen, paper, Toopy and Binoo and the rest of the Treehouse Gang.

Chris asked why Binoo never talked. I told him Binoo didn't get the chance to talk as Toopy never shut up. No comments, please.

And - to end this little epistle - some wise words from my husband, when I was wondering where we were going on Thursday. I was standing on the corner wondering which walkie button thingie I should push, East or North? and he says - and I quote - word for word (I wrote it my notebook so I wouldn't forget) -

It's no good to go anywhere unless we go somewhere else.

I've written a lot of words in my life, but I can't top these.

AUGUST 24 - Snake Hill, Patullo Bridge, Sapperon and Greens & Beans

Brrr. Chilly morning, only 14 shivering degrees, but the sun was sort of shining, and the forecast looked promising - so off Breehy and I went on another great adventure. Today we were going to cross that Patullo Bridge - or die trying. Only when I got on that bridge did I realize that actually may have been the case.

However - here we are, trying to remember the Google way. Down, down, down - Scott Road is very downy, as a matter of fact. 

This picture is very accurate. I had to pull Breehy back as we skidded and rolled down hill. No way was I going to Wheeeee down this one. Ever since yesterday, and Howard's 'flat tire' comment, I have an additional fear of blowing out a tire on a nice downhill ride.

I wonder why this is called Snake Hill?

Oh. That's why. At this point I knew for sure I wasn't coming back this way. King George Boulevard would be a piece of uphill cake compared to this.

After about a hundred downhill miles, we finally reached the level, and then it was quite easy to get to the beginning of the Patulla Bridge. But that is when I discovered that the biking/walking lane is but a mere sidewalk with no safety barrier barring me off in safety from the traffic.

A lot of traffic came in the form of big huge transport trucks, whose wheels almost rubbed against the curb. I made Breehy get outside as we walked up to the peak. The views were fine - here is the Sky Train Bridge. I would rather be taking a picture of it than travelling on it, that's for sure.

And here's Brownsville Park Beach tucked beside the water, sheltered by the trees.

Getting closer to the highest part of the bridge, and finally I get a safer-feeling place to be. These bloody big trucks had all my life flitting by me as they flitted by me.

I finally made it, safe and sound, to New Westminster, and after a bit of riding here, there, and a bit of everywhere, found the road that would take me to Sapperton, which was my destination. There was a Canadian Pacific train chugging along by the street - well, actually, it was a CN Train, but I don't think anyone wrote a song about them.

Now I know where to find a Brick Wall when I need to bang my head against one.

And I was really surprised to see a Castle at the top of all these stairs. Not very often I see Castles in the Lower Mainland. However, this castle turned out to be a ....

I guess if Rapunzel has a few Dead Frogs she'll let her hair down. Seems like I'm on the right road to somewhere, though. Not the Burnaby one - the Sapperton Park one that is 1.8 km away.

A bit of a ride, a cross the street, and a down a hill - and I was near the water again, at Brunette Creek, as a matter of fact.

The gates kept one away from the dock - but, what pretty gates they were!

And once I realized I was going in the wrong direction and headed back the park road, I found Sapperton Landing Park. I'm not sure what this symbolizes, but it is pretty.

The Barracks/Penitentiary. I was hoping for a good link that would tell you all about Sapperton, but couldn't find one. I read about them in Mike McCardell's fine book, GETTING TO THE BUBBLE. If you haven't read this treasure, do. Meanwhile - here's some history for you.

After learning everything about this spot, we started on our explorations once more, this time looking for somewhere to get a bite to eat. We passed this church -

 Which was built by The Royal Engineers in 1865. I thought that was pretty interesting.

And then we came across this, which also looked very interesting.

Greens & Beans is a busy little deli - and it's busy because the food is so darn good. Also the menu is so darn cool - I think. I would have liked to order the Big Nasty, or the Big Ass Sub, just to say the words, but I went with something more ladylike.

Here Leona is busy making me a Chicken Cordon Bleu sandwich, and I tell ya, she's got it down pat. 

I had a nice lunch on an outdoor table, which was a bit wobbly, but that was okay. I couldn't resist the green of a Crush lime pop, although I did have second thoughts about it when I tasted it. Should have stuck to water. However, the sandwich was delicious. If you live within driving distance, it's worth a trip (or within biking distance, actually.) I didn't eat the Lemon Blueberry Loaf until later on in the evening, and I stupidly shared it with my hubby. It was so moist and so delicious I should have just kept it as one of my little (big) secrets.

Before I left, I went in to thank Leona, and now I have another place where Every Body Knows My Name. Greens and Beans also does Picnic Baskets, and one day, I want to go there and get my picnic fixings. Anyone wanna come with me?

So, now to return to my Little House on the Corner. Travelling back on East Columbia, I pass this store, which I thought might be interesting to my male readers.

Then this place - I have no idea who would be interested in Mr Anderson and his profession. I wouldn't want a mechanic working on my dental stuff. Just the thought of greasy oily fingers poking around my mouth makes me a bit queasy.

 Through the greenway path. Beautiful old cedars make it easy for my camera to impress me.

 And here's the bridge again. How beautiful is that?

And here's these trucks again - how scary is that? 

This is that Snake Hill on Scott Road I walked down on my way. Nope, definitely not going home that way.

Yes, I certainly will keep off. I had no intention of climbing the girders, believe me.
And here, in the distance is the new Golden Ears Bridge. I don't think I'm going to ride over that one. Yet.

A huge cloud of blue smoke was rising from the Surrey side of the bridge. Never found out why - it was all dissipated by the time I got across.

Once in Surrey again, I had to find my way to King George Boulevard. There was a lot of construction - what else is new? - and I ended up here -

 And here -

And back here - which was definitely where I didn't want to be - as it was leading back onto the Patullo Bridge.

I finally found what I was looking for - and now it was just a long long walk uphill - 4 kilometers, if you can believe Google Transit (and I do) but from then on it was clear sailing - or should I say gliding.

 I see somewhere along the way, someone tossed their cookies.

And tucked in the middle of used car lots - another example of Surrey's great One-Stop-Does-It-All businesses. While hubby seals the deal on a new car, wifey can get a makeover.

 Then I met this cute little Cylinder Man.

 And this Pawn Shop feller.

And it was all downhill after that. Literally. Well, except for a little uphill on 132 Street, which turned into an excellent downhill all the way to my driveway.

And here are my routes - the black squiggle line shows how I got there, and how I got back. Follow the arrow to Greens and Beans.

 Below, the blue line shows my route from the Patullo Bridge to Greens and Beans.

I biked/walked over 23 kilometers today, and have the aching muscles to prove it. That's 14 miles. More than that, as I had to backtrack several times.