2012 SI Junior Olympics

Last weekend was spent enjoying the sights and sounds around the narrow concrete alleyway in the back of the bleachers at the Rancho Bernando High School pool ... oh yeah, and occasionally seeing our children swim.

The junior olympic meet is even run very efficiently, and there aren't the gobs of kids there are at normal meets - as there are pretty tough qualification standards. And yet still - one wonders why one spends 9-10 hours at the pool over two days to see the kids swim for about ... 3 minutes total each day (being generous there).

The first day involved both kids participating. Lucy only qualified in the 50 fly this time due to her surgery last October, but Ethan qualified in multiple events. Lucy also participated in a relay Saturday, but overall this wasn't her favorite meet. We'll leave it at that.

Ethan enjoyed the best performances of his young life on both days. On Saturday, he qualified for the Far Western meet in the 50 free and 100 back, additionally making the Western Zones cut. Since only he was competing Sunday, we asked him which parent he wanted to take him. I suppose I should be ashamed to say I was wishing he'd pick David (Lucy and I were hatching all kinds of plans involving spa-like treatments), but no - I was picked. I give little advice and mostly keep to myself crocheting hats (when I'm not acting as hall-tree, holding towels, jackets, etc). I guess that was all Ethan required.

On Sunday, he qualified for the Far Western meet in his last event, the 100 free. He also made the zones cut on the 50 back. This is quite incredible for a child that practices on average 1.5x per week...

Results:
100 free 1:06.66 5th place - sectional qual
50 back 34.39 2nd place - sectional and zone
50 breast 44.17 10th place
50 free 29.93 4th place - sectional qual
50 fly 35.22 7th place
100 back 1:15.23 4th place - sectional and zone

It is also a bit incredible that you can make a zones cut and still only place 4th in your regional meet. I am fairly certain that a few of the 14 year olds we saw swimming will be in the Olympics in not too long.

Why Timeshare Salemsen are Ruining America

A couple of days ago we spent the afternoon at the Lawrence Welk Resort - which is at most 10 miles northeast of our house. It is located off of Champagne Boulevard, in the shadow of I-15, but more importantly, it's located on my favorite Valley Center bike routes. Now why in the world would be interested in purchasing a timeshare we can bike to? Generally we wouldn't be - we were just interested in the six free Knott's Berry Farm tickets and the Catalina Island trip.

These things are supposed to take 90 minutes. They start you off with drinks and snacks and act like they care about you and want to get to know you - like you might be friends. Unfortunately for the salesman, we're old hats at timeshare pitches - and I have us practice saying "No", "Nope", "Not today" over and over again in the car on the way there.

But they are so very, very good, and so very, very despirate these days. The only ones we've been to that don't drag it out when they know you aren't going to buy is the Marriott ones. The others (Hilton, Lawrence Welk, Starwood, etc.) have devised endless trials you must pass through in order to get your free gift without buying anything.

So I've already posted on Facebook the inane joke our salesman started off with. Frankly, I still don't get it. David said, "We should've asked him, 'How do you starve a salesman? Don't pay him unless he can sell a hamburger to someone who already has six.'" Ha - now THAT'S funny. We spent all the in-between times when he was doing whatever it was he was doing to make the thing drag out thinking of the worst possible things to tell him in answer to his questions. Really, he had his work cut out for him.

And yet... I felt like David almost wavered there for a moment. But who wouldn't? They lay it on thick, telling you the advantages of a Southern California location as a trade-in - blah, blah, blah - so MANY advantages!

Except that the whole time the guy was blinking his eyes funny and tensing his neck - so much so that at least me, Lucy, and Ethan were completely obsessed with watching for the next time he'd twitch. Ethan got REALLY good at imitating him and did it for us several times at lunch following.

So after maybe two hours they finally bring out the slick upper level salesman with the Irish accent (we didn't detect it at first, but it came on strong about 3 minutes into his discussion - we're thinking it was fake) to give you the price lowdown. So ok - they'll trade-in our Marriott timeshare for $7,200 only if we buy the two bedroom for about $37,000. But they pretty much knew we wouldn't go for that, so then they offered us the 1-bedroom every other year deal for $12,000 (but no trade-in). We heard a lot about how the 14.9% APR and $180/month was affordable and we'd just pay it off early anyway.

(Aside: We had told them we are about to buy a house (we are) and that we were being very careful about incurring more debt.)

I said no to that. David hesitated. Not sure if the salesman smelled blood or was going to go for the last ditch effort anyway. The Irish guy went away, and then the salesman asked us how low the payment would have to be to get us to buy something today. We stared at him in silence for several minutes (what Lucy would call 'awkward silence') and I'm pretty sure that maybe he was starting to think we were a little mentally challenged. Finally I said, "Look, it doesn't matter WHAT price per month it is - I know it's not the price per month - it's this total (pointing at the 12K) that we're purchasing and I'm not wanting to buy anything at that price right now."

"So if I gave you 2 weeks of vacation for $5/month you wouldn't buy it?"

"No I would NOT."

Really, he should've stopped there and let us go for lunch. He let my blood sugar get low, thinking that would weaken me - but it just makes me mean.

So he went on anyway. He told us how this last program was usually only offered to employees, but they were now offering it to the public because it was such a great deal. (Not that it's just a way to offer an even cheaper option - they are doing this for US you see)

$7995 - every other year, 1 bedroom, 6 nights a year. "It's only like $120/month. I mean, yeah sure, you don't need it - it's a luxury purchase. But if you can afford it, why not?"

And THAT my friends, is what's ruining America - or should I say, what has ruined America. Sure, if you can afford it RIGHT NOW, if you completely MAX YOURSELF OUT and have no reserves left, why not?

We know this story. We've heard this story. You would think we've learned this lesson, and yet here is THIS guy still trying to sell that line c. 2005.

Note that he even offered to delay reporting this new debt so it wouldn't affect our home purchase in the immediate timeframe.

It all sounds so sleezy when I look back on it, but in the moment, you do start to think, why not? Why shouldn't I spoil myself? Why shouldn't I vacation? Why shouldn't I buy things I don't need just because with some limited evidence and limited perspective, it seems like I can afford it?

Unless you have nerves of steel and an unbelievable ability to say no (I, in fact, have at least this last trait), do not go to timeshare spiels! No matter what they offer!

So, we're trying to leave and we're told we have to wait to get the gift. After 10 more minutes (going on 3 hours at this point), David asks the people at the desk what we're waiting for? Can't you just hand us the certificates? Oh no, sir, someone will be right with you.

To offer you YET ANOTHER DEAL. A trial membership. I was so hungry, so irritated, at that point, that I said - No, we don't want to hear about it. We don't want to know what it costs, what it is, nothing.

I think what pissed me off the most about our main salesman - what I couldn't really get over - was when he told us he uses all six weeks of the timeshares he owns - because he only has to work three months out of the year. I guess I don't know the rest of his situation, but I spent a lot of the time pondering the fact that he makes enough money off of schmucks like us so that he only works three months out of the year. So maybe he has an inheritance, or other business that makes the majority of his money, but the thought that someone could make enough money in three months of selling luxury in this somewhat deplorable fashion to live a life of luxury himself? I was troubled.

Not sure what my point in posting this is other than to complain. I sure will let you know how that Catalina Island trip goes! I've always wanted to go there.

Three Day Meets aren't any easier now than they were 5 years ago

Or are they? I'd argue they aren't - because while the kids can pretty well get themselves to their races on time, spending 3 days straight (8 hours on each of Saturday and Sunday) out in the elements around a pool never really gets easier. It's a long day for everyone.

But let's not focus on the negative (as I am wont to do). I'm mostly posting this just to keep track of results - a little bookmark in the timeline of swim team history. It gives me a strange satisfaction to look back through the old swim meet posts and be absolutley amazed at how much faster the kids are now.

Friday night was truly special. We waded through the worst of Southern California rush hour to get all the way to Fallbrook by 5pm - for the 45 minutes of warm up - for the race that was to finally be conducted around 7:30 pm - by which time it was about 45 degrees (not kidding). The race? Lucy's first 500 yard freestyle. That kind of distance just ain't right. It especially ain't right when you're swimming it outdoors in the dark when it's 45 degrees. She says her toes were still numb when she finished. This race took her 6:25 - that's six minutes and 25 seconds of pure agony. There's a lot to admire in that Lucy!

The next morning started at 6:00am, when I reluctantly roused myself to prepare for the day. I had the pleasure of attending this meet husbandless. That will not be forgotten.

I'm drifting toward dwelling on the negative again - so let's get to results.

Lucy's results (age 12):

100 IM - 1:14
50 Free - 29s
50 fly - 32s (Junior Olympics qualifying)
100 free - 1:04
100 fly - 1:17

Ethan's results (age 10):
100 IM - 1:17
50 free - 30.5 (3rd place)
100 back - 1:20 (1st place)
50 back - 36.16 (1st place - Far Western qualifying - "Far Western" is the big all-California meet)
100 free - 1:07 (3rd place)
50 breast - 44s

Four years ago I recorded some amazingly different times for the kids at the first meet I put on the blog (Spook Splash - October 2007):
Ethan (at age 6) swimming a 1:07.18 in the 50 freestyle (now he swims the 100 as fast) and Lucy (at age 8) swimming her 100 freestyle in 1:51.

What I was most proud of at this last meet was Ethan's tremendous determination to qualify for Far Westerns in the 50 backstroke. I had never seen that look on his face before - he swam with a passion - those skinny arms and legs with the huge feet moving faster than you might think possible.

They're great kids. It ended up being a lot of fun.

I'm not as sweet as Mrs. Mike

Mrs. Mike by Benedict Freedman

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


This was a very tender book. I didn't realize until I was about halfway through (when I read the back page) that it was based on a real-life story - which made it even more special. This is the story of the fragile 16-year old Irish girl from Boston who leaves the city to live with her uncle in the remote regions of Western Canada - where she fairly quickly falls in love with a tall strapping Canadian Mounty. If you're thinking it's going to be all schmaltz and romance - you will be sorely disappointed (or pleasantly surprised, depending on your outlook). The story contains a tremendous amount of tragedy - but the ability of the human spirit to soldier on and love in spite of that tragedy is what you'll remember about this book.



Here are some of my favorite passages:



p. 57 - "Flashes of lightning ripped the heavens, and a torrent of rain blinded our horses. I turned my face to the sky and laughed because the things you enjoy can't hurt you."

(Facing fear with laughter)



p. 99 - "I looked at him surprised. Is that what we had done today, taken a walk? A walk here didn't mean around the block on a cement sidewalk, as it did in Boston. It meant wolf track, bear breathings, rivers throwing ice at you, and Indians, and..."

(This reminded me of our hikes in Idaho)



p. 138 - "A bear that will eat grubs off the bottom of a stone will eat anything, I reasoned, and that anything might be me."

(This is exactly how I reason in the wilderness)



p. 153 - "They're mostly wildflowers. They grow in the woods, in swmaps, in very difficult places. She must have spent all day finding them, and then she put them in the ground to make your garden."

(The unbelievable kindness of the far north - although this was the town's insane woman's way of showing it)



p. 158 - "These big things, these terrible things, are not the important ones. If they were, how could one go on living? No, it is the small, little things that make up a day that bring fullness and happiness to a life. Your Sergeant coming home, a good dinner, your little Mary laughing, the smell of the woods - oh, so many things, you know them yourself."



p. 294 - "It is the fear of losing, the knowledge of losting that makes love tender."



p. 302 (the very end of the book):

I tried to tell him. "It hurts a little."

"What hurts you?" Connie asked. "A pin?"

"No," I said. "Happiness."


Did I cry at the end? I sure did. I'm kind of a softie sometimes.

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So I Just Had to Have Quiche

You are guessing this right from the title - it's a thinly veiled excuse for me to post even more pictures and talk even more about France. But it was a once in a lifetime trip - it's really not to be stopped.

So why was I thinking about France today? Mainly because while I waited to get a new set of tires (I'd rather not discuss THAT part), I wandered over to "The French Pastry Cafe" - a place I have seen many times but never had the opportunity to visit. Today was the day.

I enjoyed a quiche plate with salad and an americano: coffee - excellent! quiche - good but maybe too much nutmeg. Very surprising, the nutmeg. I really liked it at first but then half way through was like, nutmeg, really? It was not as good as any of the quiches I had in France - but, I am not in France.

But I was - and as I sat there I got to poking around on David's Google plus account where he loaded the rest of the pictures we had from France (at least, his favorites). So here we go. Yet more pictures of France.

This is the kids showing good will in the Hameau de la reine at Versailles. We visited Versailles on Bastille Day.

I believe this is at the Jardins des Plantes (where we visited the Comparative Anatomy Museum and the Paris Zoo).

The next two pictures are from Chartres. Fabulous day trip from Paris! This was also our family's first experience with foie gras. And creperies.


Notre Dame - obviously. And yes, we did see a whole lot of churches.

In fact, so many - that I have no clue which one this is. From my shirt, I'm thinking this might have been somewhere in the Loire when we were visiting Chenoceau and Chambord - but then again, we could only take so much luggage and true to the European style, I wore the same things over and over again.

Topiary gardens near Sarlat in the Dordogne.

I think this was outside of Chateau Auzers, the wedding site in the Cantal. I recognize the hydrangeas.

Versailles. I feel like I'm looking very American in this picture.

St. Emilion. Breathtaking. I loved loved loved this place. And I have 5 more bottles of Bordeaux to remember it by.

Bordeaux. That's Lucy on the far left. Bordeaux is wonderful. I didn't think I would like going there so much and spending so much time in that area. It's clear that I often have absolutely no idea what I'll like.

Lastly me - not quite smiling so hugely for once. You can probably guess where that was taken.


The kids and I were discussing France again at dinner tonight. Ethan said he loved France for the pastry. That's a good reason to love France, no doubt.

When I think a bit about it, I think I love France for the pace of life. Maybe it was just vacation anywhere pace of life - but no - it wasn't the same, even in Maui. Life was spread out and savored. Every last bit of marrow sucked. And washed down with wine - the way it should be, damn it.

I'm a reminscer - what can I say.

Reminiscing about Chicken Tagine

Chicken Tagine is one of my favorite comfort foods. It is not one of those comfort foods that remind me of "home", as in where I grew up - but rather "home", as in where I spent the vast majority of my adult life up until this point. That would be an Idaho comfort food - not exactly because it's local cuisine, but more because of the memories it evokes.

The most salient memory of chicken tagine was the time I made it for the World Cuisines dinner night put on by the former owner of Sato's in Idaho Falls (a now defunct Japanese restaurant). I happened to be acquainted with the couple that owned Sato's, and it just so happened that my endless jabbering about food (at the gym, no less) got me an invention to represent two types of cuisine at the dinner - Italian (requested), and then I got to pick one other. Tagines are typically North African dishes and come in all types. Lamb, chicken, beef, mutton - whatever you have on hand. I had made it several times before and enjoyed its simple yet potent flavors. This particular tagine is chicken tagine, and involves de-skinning bone-in thighs (or whatever you want to use - I think thighs are best), browning them in butter on both sides, then cooking about 2 onions and one bunch scallions in the drippings. After they are nice and soft and translucent, then you add in the rest of the goodies: chickpeas, ginger, garlic, black pepper, salt, cayenne pepper and cinnamon - then liquid - not fully covering the chicken. I could tell you measurements - but I won't. And you'll see why in a minute.

The dinner was supposed to have somewhere around 300 attendees. This was a number I couldn't really get my head wrapped around. For the Italian food, I made three homemade (of course!) sauces: regular tomato sauce, fresh tomato/vegetable sauce, and then pesto. These were to be served with homemade gnocchi. I perhaps should've thought through the whole - individually forming enough gnocchi for 300 people to taste. There were pounds and pounds of potatoes baked (it was either 40 or 80 - I honestly can't remember) - then flower and dashes of nutmeg mixed in, then basically all afternoon spent rolling and shaping the gnocchi. That was an incredible undertaking, and I'm not sure I could ever do it again. Especially that now that I know how easily gnocchi can go wrong (formless mush? too firm? bad shape? no taste?) - I would probably have way more of a fear of failure than I had at the time.

So - given how into that I was - I happened to forget that I had another dish to make - Chicken Tagine - for 300 people to taste. I had chicken thighs from an entire farm, I believe. Someone skinned them for me (thank god) - then I was given an enormous stove with maybe 8 huge burners and super tall pots, sticks of butter, spices - and very little time. I asked if they had measuring spoons in the restaurant kitchen, and the owner showed me the palm of his hand and said - go for it. I was really greasy by the end of that.

So, here we were with about 3 huge trays of chicken tagine in the back of our green Jeep Grand Cherokee. Jeeps are not known for their smooth rides, and this one was not special in this respect - the liquid spilled out all over the back of the car (it was only later I figured out that throwing cous cous in there toward the end soaks up all the liquid and makes for yummy carboliciousness). Thus, the car smelled like chicken tagine for.... ever. For those of you who know from experience the smell of ... specialness... that comes out of our current family car (the Pilot) - you can probably easily imagine we never were particularly speedy or conscientious about keeping our cars neat and tidy.

So where is this going? The dinner was a success. That's a little bit beside the point, although that is a good memory of chicken tagine. People loved the gnocchi and sauces so much more (tagine was a little scary to local Idaho Falls folks) - after all, it was an easy sell with the pasta being made primarily from potatoes and all, that I didn't necessarily consider the dish a success from that.

However, the spilled sauce in the car was sniffed by the new potential INL hire, Doug, who ended up eventually moving to Idaho with Wendy and enjoying many a chicken tagine dish (among other things!)

Another memory of the chicken tagine was of our exchange student, Anne-Laure (living with us actually at about the time I am referring to) - she loved that I made homecooked meals every night, and since I am a sucker for praise, I loved her for that. She used to eat healthy portions (she is a small person), and then at the end, reach for one last bite and say, "Just for the taste!" She is so cute when she says that.

I also was recalling eating mutton tagine in a little restaurant in Riom-es-Montagnes in the Cantal last July, visiting the region for that very same exchange student's wedding. David and our fast newly-made Australian friend Tom had a good laugh when I finally realized I was eating a somewhat strange (although still meaty) part of a sheep - when I had thought I was getting roast beef. Roast sheep part - the waitress did baa-baa - the universal language of farm animals should've been understood. And yet I enjoyed it anyway - so much so that I ordered it the next day. There aren't a lot of restaurants in those parts, and this was one dish I knew did not have cheese.

So why was I pondering all these memories while I ate the chicken tagine I cooked tonight? I had a lot of time to think. I cook mostly alone these days, and mostly for a crowd (read: my children) that don't care much for anything that might smack of cuisine. They both delayed coming to the table tonight, and groaned and said, "Do I have to eat THAT?" It's so encouraging, no doubt.

So I sat in silence, pondering thoughts of better days around a tagine. Days when Ethan used to eat it up with gusto and say, "I really like the peas (chickpeas)." I think next week we may eat sandwiches and campbell's tomato soup for dinner. Maybe with some crackers, not sure though, that they can handle that. Better make sure they are Ritz. And not anything with whole grain, or a non-famous brand box. I will most certainly do something aggregious like put a piece of lettuce on the sandwich.

I do not exaggerate.


Well, maybe a little. And at least David occasionally gives a word of encouragement every now and then. It's hard to feel the love I used to have for cooking - the comraderie is about as important as the ingredients.