Drawings of pedestrian Peace Bridge released

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Drawings of pedestrian Peace Bridge released

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Cyclist Dismount

So many no-car events have transpired since I last wrote. There was the cycling in+ 30C weather and the new basket I had put on my bike. The 25 million Calgary city council OK'd for a pedestrian bridge that looks like a Chinese finger trap. The realization that my feet have grown 1/2 a shoe size (possibly) due to extra walking and jumping up and down while waiting in public restrooms.

The transit trips I have taken, oh the places I have been. I must mention buses that smell like bars and outdoor athletic events. Thus priming me in a senseless way for my day’s events.

I can't seem to grasp the transfer concept. I lose it, misplace it, and can’t find it at the time of boarding. I was considering wearing an elastic band on my wrist and tucking it in there. Looking for change sucks at my place since someone is always using change for lotto tickets and daily papers. I have bought tickets but misplace them too. I think my purse has too many pockets. The transfer is good for 90 minutes which is very good. I don't know if I am suppose to be done my trip by the end of the 90 minutes or as long as I am on the bus before the 90 minutes is up I won't be fined by transit cops. I've added the local transit to my twitter account and forwarded their notices directly to my smart phone.

It seems I am cancelling out the health benefits of cycling. Trying to set myself up for success to ‘take off’ quickly from a stopped position I have sustained injuries on my calf from my sprockets. I believe puncture wounds is the most accurate way to describe. Rammed myself too often against the cross bar when trying to stop with short notice of a light turning red or my BF encouraging me to make the left on the yellow. If fact I believe my stress level has gone from an 8 to 11 out of 10 due to cycling for pleasure.

I especially struggle using a crosswalk or sidewalk as a cheat while cycling. I like rules and think they keep me safe. With all the construction and lack of bike lanes in this city it is necessary from time to time but, I am overly concerned that drivers or pedestrians will think me aggressive, self focused and stupid as well as inconsiderate. I know why I care, I am afraid they will want revenge either by pushing me off my bike, running me down or just screaming at me.

Cyclist Dismount the sign said. While I was walking across a bridge a speedy cyclist past me yelling move over, don't walk down the middle. He was to have dismounted his bike and walked it across. I yelled after him, you were supposed to dismount. He replied **ck you, driving away finger in the air.

My thoughts raced how to reply. May he was literate. Perhaps from out of town. In a hurry to see a friend at the hospital or more likely escaping the guy he just rolled in the park for a smoke. I replied in kind.

What to eat after that encounter?

No cooking tonight off to meet a friend at winebar Kensington

We had lovely snacks and wine

Grilled olive oil flatbread, basil pesto, bocconcini, prosciutto 13.00

2008 Ehrenfelser, Okanagan Valley, Canada, Cedar Creek 10.00 for 5 oz

Over priced considering Murrieta's would sell me a whole bottle for 30.00

I had visited wine bar Kensington once before and the service, atmosphere and food were excellent.

This time our original server seemed as if she might be more at home at somewhere she did not have to serve middle aged woman and instead guests who would be mesmerized with her assets. The second string server was professional, curt and emotionally unavailable. The food was excellent and we exceted prior to a second glass.

We crossed the street to Higher Ground and ordered a coffee with a shot on the side. We headed down to the river and sat on the rocks.

My friend and I had worked together 24 years ago. We compared notes, pondered how men are so much the same, we wined about how right our mother were and how our kids cost too much money but were worth it.

Wednesday

It was hot today. I made numerous phone calls. I did my best to speak in complete sentences.

Never went out till after dinner and that was to purchase wine. Casa Viva a Chilean pinot noir.

In these difficult times for the unemployed. I have been researching prospective education opportunities, this could be much more interesting with wine, sadly I avoid the daytime drinking on Wednesdays.

I am on a wait list for a culinary program. I believe I am 37^th on the list. I am hoping when the first deadline of August 1st arrives many high school grads are dropped from the list because they forgot to send in their paperwork. The tuition deadline is August 17^th. Again more people will drop from the list because they forgot to arrange for funding. Meaning they pissed off their parents so have lost their ‘MEALTICKET’

Failing this I was thinking about using my charm. In the past this included a push up bra, now it has more to do with baked lasagne. Somewhat sad but more comfortable...for everyone.

I also looked into leveraging my past diplomas toward a degree so that I can then get a certificate to do what I like. Optionally I can take another diploma course and then transfer into a degree program. I could take a certificate program and then work for a non-profit and squirrel away 25 dollars a month to pay for my own funeral. The opportunities are endless.

I am registered for two career counselling services. With real certified career counsellors. Services are booked up so, I am on a wait list- two in fact. A kind woman from the provincial government program told me to turn up to the ‘full’ career planning class because many people don’t show. I could get in. This is especially true if it’s sunny out. I qualify for a Boomer focused program and was told I should call the local University to get credit for my ‘years’ of experience. She said I could get two years credit for my 20 years experience. Excitedly I called the admissions office. “Hahahaha, hoo hoo never heard of it, Ma’am”.

Tomorrow things will look different.

No time for Lasagne.

Sundried Tomato Penne with Salmon and Peas - this is not my photo I keep eating before taking a picture

16 oz tomato sauce

Two large cloves of garlic

¼ c of sun dried tomatoes (no oil)

½ c Rough chopped sweet onions

2 c dried penne

500 gm wild salmon

Lemon Juice or fresh Lemon

2 chopped spring onions

1c frozen or fresh green peas

1/2c decent parmesan cheese- don’t even consider using a lame want-to-be cheese

1. Combine in sauce pan and heat to simmer Tomato Sauce, garlic, onions and sundried tomatoes

2. Begin cooking penne

3. Once penne is a few minutes from done...

4. Steam in shallow pan salmon in 1/2c of pasta water, 30 ml of lemon juice, or 1/2 fresh lemon, garlic and pepper for 3-4 minutes

5. Start to steam peas after salmon has started

6. Drain Penne, return to pan, add ¼ c of sauce stir to coat.

Plate

Penne with sauce, cheese, salmon and peas. Top with spring onion

Bus Bike Blocks

The weather has been good for life without a car. The choice to walk, bike or use public transit brings a sense of abundance. It also brings the sad reality of time constraints and leg power.

The walk to the Salsa fest was punctuated with visions of ‘not from the neighbourhood’ folks trying to find parking. I observed the distressed attempts to squeeze cars into too small spots, the craning of the necks to read the fine print on the “residential parking only” signs and the more risky wondering if stashing the car in an ally was an option.

After walking to and around the Salsa fest I planned to go downtown to return some, ahem, XL underwear purchased the day before. Men’s underwear, otherwise I would not be allowed to return it. This and other injustices are plentiful in the man’s world. How odd/sad is a Sunday afternoon that includes these matters?

I thought I’d take the train downtown. I was feeling the previous two hour stroll in the blistering sun a bit and did not want to be a limping old woman for the evening events ( whatever they may be). Train was down due to ‘maintenance’. Poor city planning considering there were an extra 50,000 people in the neighbourhood visiting the Salsa fest.

The city arranged for busses to transport people over the bridge and to the downtown train. And the return trip as well. This made for a very long commute with no shortage of assorted road hogs and motorist trying to assert their self importance.

A guy who chose to tangle with the bus, he lost. So now they were inspecting the ‘damage’ he and the bus driver. One woman in a pick-up insisting to turn around on a side street that had visitors parked on both sides and two lanes of snarled traffic when there was usually one lone car puttering along. A foot cop arrived on the scene to help her turn around. Silly she, traffic was no better going the other way.

My vantage point was from a bus. It was a big bus, there were only two of us on it plus the driver who kept apologising and offering us some of his Jamaican patty. There we sat on the bus not moving. It was nice out, summer had only really started this week, I wanted to be with the sun in my eyes I hated being on this bus, it was stealing my life away. I thought about getting off and walking but only momentarily. I had paid 2.50 for this ride and I was not on a time table, anyway it might start raining and while walking in the rain home can be an event I was forced to remember I had already walked to my little bodies fill. I practiced being in the now and failed, mostly due to my feelings of superiority towards those around me, the less fortunate in cars.

ahem

Bike Scream

The chain fell of my bike a couple blocks from home. I know how to change a car tire. There is no AAA for bike owners.

There is no covered parking for bike owners not counting the overhangs at stylish pubs. Someone suggested I carry a plastic bag to cover my bike seat if there is chance of rain. Why I wouldn’t carry a towel to dry the seat, I thought.

I am missing some bike stuff...a basket, a kick stand and a full antidote vile for beaver fever.
My hands were greasy from pretending like I knew how to put the chain back on. I thought a lot about when we were kids and would turn our bikes upside down, crank the peddle and pretend we were making ice cream.

I thought about making cherry ice cream. I had fresh BC Cherries and some cream; I’d make up the difference with almond milk. It was this thought that filled me with senseless hope as I wheeled my bike home.

My BF greeted me at the door, flipped the chain on. He tried to make me watch but I was not interested, I wanted ice-cream. I called my daughter to borrow her ice-cream maker.
Sure, she chirped, that sounds good, but you have to freeze the metal insulated bowl thingy for 4-6 hours before it will freeze the ingredients.

I put the bad boy in the freezer. That was two weeks ago. The cherries were eaten by hand, the cream made its way into a curry and the almond milk on to some Shreddies. Last I noticed I had half a loaf of rice bread stuffed in the frozen hole that was suppose to bring homemade sweet delight.

My chain came off again. I fiddled and fixed it, picked up a Klondike bar that night and was glad I did not have to pay for parking.

yum

Black Cherry Cherry Ice Cream- Modified from Canadian Living Magazine
You don't need an ice-cream machine to make this rich and creamy soother. ; )
Servings: 6

2 cups (500 mL) chopped pitted sweet black cherries –they really don’t take long to pit especially if you get someone else to do it
1/2 cup (125 mL) granulated sugar
Custard:
1/3 cup (75 mL) granulated sugar
1 cup (250 mL) Almond milk or soya milk
1/2 cup (125 mL) heavy or whipping cream
2 tsp (10 mL) vanilla extract pure of course
Preparation:
Custard: In bowl, whisk egg yolks with sugar for 2 minutes or until pale and thickened; set aside. In heavy saucepan, heat Almond milk and cream over medium-high heat just until bubbles form around edge; gradually whisk into yolk mixture.
Return to saucepan; cook over low heat, stirring constantly, for about 12 minutes or until thick enough to coat back of wooden spoon. Immediately strain through fine sieve into large bowl. Stir in vanilla. Place plastic wrap directly on surface; refrigerate for about 2 hours or until chilled or for up to 24 hours.
Meanwhile, in bowl, combine cherries with sugar; let stand for 2 hours. Stir into chilled custard.
Pour into shallow metal pan; cover and freeze for about 3 hours or until almost firm. Break up into chunks; transfer to food processor and purée until smooth. Transfer to chilled airtight container; freeze for 1 hour or until firm. (Alternatively, freeze in ice-cream machine according to manufacturer's instructions.)

Soup Soothes Lost Morning

On my way to an important appointment I was sure to leave early for the bus. By early I mean enough time to walk, not run, to the stop. I had to go back to my apartment for water, a flat pair of shoes to walk home in, again for a bus ticket, a magazine to read and once more for my very important papers protected in a shiny blue folder. Important in as much they stated –Bring these papers with you to your appointment.

Perhaps I did not have enough coffee on this morning or the cobwebs were thicker than typical, I was unusually out of sync with my environment. I am a bit excited this morning I am about to change the course of my life.

Off the bus, run to the train transfer in hand (walk quickly downhill), stride 5 minutes to the appointment. Outside the door I checked for my important papers- gone.

Am I losing it, I asked into the phone. Mid-life had presented me with some forgetful moments; this one seemed as close to a night at the bar as any to date. My BF assures me no. I did not leave them in the apartment and I am not losing it.

I attend my very important appointment with no important papers. I am sent to stand in a line. First I’m told I should go home and look around or maybe I left it in the car. NO car, maybe I left them on the bus I offer the stern but vacant eyed government worker...we all know that the chances of retrieving anything left on a bus are similar to getting a refund on chewed gum. It is a city’s black hole. She agreed, I was directed to wait for a short bit.

I sat. I cleaned out my purse. Found a snack. I read my Vegetarian times. I call 1800 O Canada to see if they could help. Mohamed answered and says he can’t help me. I secretly hope the call center is in Canada and then wonder if that was a mean spirited thought of if I am thinking as a patriot.

My bus transfer is going to expire; I did not bring cash...I’ll have to take the train home illegally. I mentally prepare what I will tell the transit officer to get out of the ticket. I’m called 90 minutes later. Yes they can reorder the papers for me. The clerk offers to lie and say I never got them...thanks, no thanks.

Back home I look longingly at the bus bench across the street and see my folder on the sidewalk and papers dancing across the field. While retrieving all but one page I think of the morning lived.

I had left them on the bench beside me. I guess I was used to using my car as a big purse.

My BF went out to get the wine. We needed some comfort food...Soup

• 1/2 pound extra-lean ground beef/turkey
• 1 egg, lightly beaten
• 2 tablespoons dry bread crumbs rye work well
• 1 tablespoon grated Parmesan cheese
• 1/2 teaspoon dried basil or rosemary
• 1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
• 7 cups chicken broth
• 2 cups thinly sliced spinach
• 1/2 cup uncooked orzo pasta or rice
• 1/3 cup finely chopped carrot or celery

DIRECTIONS

1. In medium bowl, combine meat, egg, bread crumbs, cheese, basil and Worcestershire sauce; shape into 3/4 inch balls. Cook in the oven at 325 for 20 minutes
2. In large saucepan, heat broth to boiling; add orzo pasta, chopped carrot. Return to boil, then reduce heat to medium. Cook at slow boil for 10 minutes, or until pasta is al dente. Add spinach cook for 2 minutes add cooked meat balls.
3. Serve with additional grated Parmesan cheese ....mmm