I took my Mom today to have a minor medical procedure done, one where she needed a light anesthetic .
All went well and as she was coming back from the anesthetic they called me to come sit with her in the recovery room.
As she woke up she kept saying, “I’m cold. I’m cold.”  The wonderful nurses in the recovery room would bring her a warmed blanket each time she said that.
And it freaked me out. I’ve just finished re-reading Catch-22  and one of Yossarian’s recurring memories throughout the book is the gunner Snowden saying, “I’m cold. I’m cold.” after he’s been wounded on a bombing run.  Only at the end of the book do you find out that Snowden is horribly wounded and dying.
Like Yossarian, at that moment I just wanted to run away.
1. It was cold in there. Felt nice on a muggy day.
2. If, like me, you haven’t read Catch-22 since high school, go to your local library, get a copy, and read it. What an amazing book.
3. Spoiler alert.
I’ve set myself the goal of running the Fort4Fitness marathon on September 28th, 2019. I last (and first) ran a marathon in 1997, the year I turned 40. I’ll be 62 years old by September 28th.
I’ve been following Jeff Galloway’s program. It’s based on running 3 days a week, long slow runs, and regular walking breaks alternating with running. I run 4 minutes and 30 seconds and walk 30 seconds in the particular program I’m doing.
And it’s working. I feel so good running. Before I started following this program I had tendinitis in my right hip. My lower back would tighten up during a run. Both of those made running, and everyday life, painful.
Today I ran 11 miles and while I was tired and achy by the end I didn’t hurt. Mile 11 felt better than mile 1 . No hip pain, no back pain. An 11:35 pace is nothing to brag about, but I’m not bragging, I’m just feeling good again.
1. “The Official Run-Walk-Run Site.” I don’t get the “Run-Walk-Run” title, the program is Run-Walk or Run-Walk-Run-Walk if you’re not into the whole brevity thing.
2. That probably has more to do with that I did my run today after having Easter brunch at my favorite sister-in-law’s house. It took about 4 miles before I wasn’t feeling my stuffed gut.
Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted; If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
Evangeline – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My mom has vascular dementia, she often doesn’t know what day it is and can’t complete thoughts or sentences.
But her intellect remains formidable. We were talking the other day and she asked, apropos of nothing, “What do you know about Evangeline? Do you know why Longfellow wrote it?”
I had to admit the only reason I knew about Evangeline was because James Lee Burke frequently mentions her in his Dave Robicheaux crime fiction stories. 
After that conversation I stopped at the Peabody library in Columbia City  and checked out a Longfellow collection. I plowed through the dense, almost impenetrable to me, 19th century text and came across the gem that I quoted at the start of this post.
We’ve been talking a lot about fountains these days. Son Josh has done a jaw-dropping amount of genealogical research and relevant to this post our family name  can be rendered as “to the fountain.”
The words of a long dead poet, dredged up who knows why by the tangled synapses of my mom’s mind, through a good public library, to my son’s genealogical research.
These things flow by and through me. I’m a baffled conduit of wonder.
1. I didn’t admit that I thought Wordsworth wrote Evangeline. One of my great regrets in life was that I pursued a technical rather than a liberal arts education.
2. Public libraries are a treasure. I’m filled with hope every time after I visit one.
I’d planned to make broccoli beef tonight which we usually make with flank steak or something like that. But when I went to the freezer last night we were out of flank steak or sirloin or anything really appropriate.
So I grabbed a chuck roast  and slapped it in the refrigerator and decided I’d figure out how to make it work later.
Tonight rolled around, it’s 5pm and I’ve got a chunk of roast to get ready for supper. I considered slicing it paper thin and searing it and hoping for the best, but then I remembered my favorite cooking tool, the pressure cooker.
This isn’t one of the modern Instant Pots, this is an old school pressure cooker. You pour in some water, a chunk of meat, crank the heat and let it rattle away for 30 minutes or so and you make a tough old chuck roast meltingly tender.
More than anything else, it reminds me of home. My mom and my grandmothers used pressure cookers. To hear it rattling away on the stovetop and to smell the rich steam takes me home again when I was a little kid  and that sound and smell meant good things soon like beef and noodles.
Or good things like broccoli beef. We’re eating light these days, and beef and noodles served over mashed potatoes doesn’t exactly fit the bill.
So I sliced the chuck roast thin, trimming off all the fat and put it in the pressure cooker with garlic, ginger, soy sauce and water. Once it got up to steam I set the timer for 12 minutes and cut up a couple heads of broccoli, a green bell pepper, and some green onions.
Then after the beef came out of the pressure cooker I seared the beef in the wok, added the vegetables, then a sauce of soy sauce, oyster sauce, ginger, garlic, and scallions and et voila!
Served on a bed of cauliflower rice, it’s delicious, light, and … tastes like home.
1. Yes, it bothers me to cook “Chuck”. 2. I’m a little hard-wired. The menu was done first, so the ingredients must conform to the menu. To adapt the menu, since it was done first, would be, well, wrong. 3. ”
Didn’t have a care in the world
With mommy and daddy standin’ by”
I love to run. 9 miles this morning on one of my favorite routes down Chapine Road.
I’m training for a marathon this fall. I don’t know that I’ll get there, that these old feet, knees, and hips will stand up to the pounding.
But I just love to run. To go out this morning and spend an hour and 45 minutes running was pure pleasure. Not that it didn’t hurt. My feet and back were aching during the run, and my quads are going to tell me about it tomorrow.
While running I lose myself in my thoughts, just drift along ruminating on old memories, or thinking about what might happen next, or just enjoying the moment, feeling my breath cycling oxygen in and co2 out, my heart beating strong, all fueling my legs to keep moving on.
Running a marathon will be nice, but just running makes me happy.
The rain continues to fall, almost 6 inches in the last 10 days, so being it’s too wet to plow, and I can’t dance, I headed out to Washington DC this weekend to help eldest son Josh refinish the floors in his new condo. Josh isn’t moving in until in May, so it was the perfect time to get it done.
I drove out on Friday and wanted to start at 6am on Saturday when Home Depot opened and we could get the sanders. But I hadn’t considered practicalities of city life and neighbors both adjoining and underneath. So we started at 9am.
Here’s the kitchen after the first pass sanding. You can see how aged the old finish was. Josh thought it was probably the original finish, 24 years old.
That’s the edger we rented from Home Depot in the middle of the floor.
Josh is on the drum sander making the first pass in the living room with the 24 grit sanding drum.
You’ll notice the electric cord draped over his shoulder. By this point we’d managed to sand both of the sander electrical cords and patched them with tape.
This is the bedroom after the 1st pass sanding.
Just gorgeous! The old finish was worn and scratched and stained, but the wood underneath is beautiful.
Looking down the steps after the first sanding pass.
We sanded them with the edger. It doesn’t look like there’s much it missed, but there’s hours and hours of hand sanding left there.
Josh is working on the spots the edger wouldn’t reach with my pad and mouse sander. A few minutes of hand sanding gave you a deep appreciation of the contractor quality sanders we’d rented from Home Depot.
Here’s the living room floor after the final sanding. We did 3 sanding passes with finer grit drums on each pass.
There’s still lots of dust to clean up. We vacuumed it, wiped it all down with rags soaked in paint thinner, wiped it with a swiffer and then a tac rag. And then did it all again.
The jugs of finish all contained dire warnings about planning your application so you have an exit. We took heed.
Josh is holding the door open with his foot so I can do the last little bit of the first coat.
After the first coat of a water-based polyurethane it’s starting to look good.
With the second coat we’re really starting to get some depth and shine.
If you’re from around here you’ll recognize I have a Leatherman in that holder on my belt. I quickly realized that, unlike around here, a Leatherman is not a common fashion accessory in Washington DC.
The last coat is going on here. I managed to step in the part Josh had brushed in along the edges, so I took my shoes off and finished the rest barefoot. You can see that 3rd coat is really getting a rich, deep gloss.
Home Depot, we couldn’t have done it without you!
The weather condition aligned last night to decorate everything with the most incredibly large and delicate ice crystals. Today is a beautiful cold, clear, and still day, perfect for admiring the gift nature gave us last night.
We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.